Youngling
by Karategal
Summary: PreMovie Verse : 2007 Just how did Optimus Prime and the other Autobots cope with raising Bumblebee, the last of the younglings? Protocol only goes so far when a youngling is involved...
1. Chapter I : Ironhide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

This was just something that popped into my head when I saw the movie in the theaters. Just how did Optimus Prime and the other Autobots cope with raising Bumblebee, the last of the younglings? Protocol only goes far when a youngling is involved...

I'm not very familiar with the series, so please be gentle. What I know is either from the movie or from quick, random reading. This is a numerous-part series focusing on Bumblebee's childhood and side-story of my earlier story _Little Brother_ and I would suggest reading that story first to give you an idea of the storyline, but constructive criticism is welcome. I will probably pay the closest attention to Autobots from the 2007 film since they seem to be the closest to Bumblebee, although others will be included. Whenever an idea pops into my head, I'll write about it. Thank you and please enjoy reading.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot and he is quite a bit smaller without all of his armor and additions yet. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Sparkling - Newborn

Youngling - Child

Italics - Thoughts

Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes

Joor - About 6.5 Earth hours

Orn - About 13 Earth day

Vorn - About 83 Earth years

Youngling - Chapter I - Ironhide

* * *

The sleek silver exterior of the Beta Nebulae Autobot Military Base and Outpost had shone brilliantly as the two suns set on the horizon and thousands of stars dotted the moon's night sky. Four titanic figures strode down one of the outer hallways, their shiny armors gleaming in the last rays of light and giving them an ethereal glow. The bulkiest of the four turned and stared at the darkening sky with hard blue optics, his hydraulics hissing slowly with suspicion…

"This base isn't nearly as fortified as I had hoped," Ironhide rumbled, his massive plasma cannons crackling slightly with apprehension. "We could've waited another few orns until we reached a more secure sector."

"You heard the Hatchet, though," Jazz argued, trying to diffuse some of his friend's tension, "The medical bay's almost out of medical supplies and we can't risk the chance of an attack and not have the means to treat the wounded. Too risky."

"This outpost _is_ too risky," Ironhide snarled, punching in the code to the rec room keypad of the base, "Outposts draw attention and attention draws…"

"'Hide!"

The colossal weapons specialist didn't have time to take no more than four steps through the rec room doors before he was physically assaulted by a bubbly yellow version of a minibot missile. Hydraulics hissing in protest at the sudden attack, Ironhide shifted his large frame to gaze down and into the shining baby blue optics of his youngling charge. "Can't get away from you for one joor, can I?"

"Nope!" the youngling giggled, grabbing hold of one of Ironhide's bulky hands and dragging him across the room with little effort. "Look at what Hound and Blue're doing!"

Ironhide had discovered long ago that being gentle and indulgent was key when handling a youngling, especially where the little bot's health and wiring was concerned since both were very fragile and very undeveloped. Although Bumblebee was now the Cybertronian equivalent of a five-year-old Earth child, he still needed to be handled with excessive care and delicate touches. Ironhide had yanked the little bot's arm not too long ago when Bumblebee was being especially ornery one orn, severing the youngling's shoulder joint and completely shredding the wiring in his forearm. His youngling's cries of pain and anguish had nearly made Ironhide order Ratchet to deactivate the old mech himself.

It had taken over four orns to repair the excessive damage the firing range had sustained during Ironhide's rampage, nothing in the room escaping his grief-and-hate-stricken wrath.

Nothing except the Autobot cause came close to rivaling the devotion that Ironhide felt towards the youngling. None of his fellow Autobots dared to comment on the placidity that gruff ol' Ironhide seemed to develop when in the little bot's presence. They all valued their voice capacitors far too much to ever take such a life-threatening risk.

Ironhide's fatherly love for Bumblebee _**far**_ surpassed his ardent passion for blowing Decepticons into thousands of pieces. Not that he'd ever admit to that, of course.

He did have a reputation to maintain, after all.

Fireflight, the only other youngling onboard _Artemis I_ besides Bumblebee, was not present and was most likely in the flight simulators with his own guardian, the Autobot aerial commander, Silverbolt. Unlike Bumblebee, Fireflight was a survivor of the Youth Sectors, the only survivor of his particular sector, and was about the Cybertronian equivalent of a thirteen-year-old Earth child. The young mech had received his third-frame not too many vorns ago, so it was not uncommon for the little red flier to spend a large portion of the orn training with his fellow aerialbots. Bumblebee was not too happy about losing the only playmate remotely close to his age bracket, and often let his displeasure be known when he saw the older red and white youngling leaving the rec room for his regimen of flight training.

The two Autobot mechs in charge of youngling-sitting while they were at the outpost, Hound and Bluestreak, were currently tackling one another on the mats in the practice room. The sounds of hydraulics wheezing and joints straining could be heard on the far side of the room. Neither looked like they were going to be disentangled any breem soon.

"I think we're stuck," Bluestreak murmured, giving his fellow Autobots a slightly sheepish grin from his place on the mat, "A little help would be most appreciated, my dear ol' friends."

Ironhide glared down at the two mechs who were supposed to be watching Bumblebee, not glitching around in the rec room. The enormous weapons specialist was not afraid to admit that he was paranoid. Younglings were extremely rare and as far as he knew, Bumblebee was the last living youngling who had been sparked _**after**_ the destruction of the Youth Sectors.

The mere thought of some strange mech or Decepticon scum snatching the little bot up when no Autobot was looking nearly made Ironhide march down to Optimus's office and demand that Bumblebee be locked onboard _Artemis I_ until he was old enough to receive his third frame and cannons. If Bumblebee threw a tantrum and did not talk to him for a couple of orns, so be it. He'd get over it.

Did he mention that he was paranoid?

"Were you two attempting one of Jazz's grappling tackles?" Inferno asked, giving the two tangled mechs and the Special Operation's leader a pointed look. "You both know you're not flexible enough to perform those grabs and holds."

"Well, you can't blame a mech for trying," Hound grumbled from where his face was shoved into the mat and he was forced to listen to Jazz's snickering. "Mute it, Jazz!"

Bumblebee giggled at his two caretakers as they tried to disentangle themselves yet again, which only seemed to make the situation worse. Thoroughly frustrated and uncomfortable, both grinned evilly and made a grab for the taunting youngling who was promptly saved from capture by the ever-loyal Jazz.

"Now, now," tsked Jazz whilst snatching up Bumblebee and then depositing the little bot next to his towering guardian. "No need to take your frustrations out on others, especially lil' younglings. Your Creator would be appalled if he saw you now."

Bluestreak couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Bumblebee. The youngling looked like a limp rag whenever someone grabbed him by the scruff-bar, just dangling there with his big optics taking on a watery look that no one onboard _Artemis I_ could seem to resist. Not even Ironhide, whom many other mechs considered to be more ruthless and bloodthirsty than a greater part of the Decepticon Army.

"Well, I'm glad someone finds this funny," mumbled Hound whilst mock-glaring at the limp minibot, "Traitor."

Bumblebee merely made an obnoxious clicking sound at the mech and quickly grabbed a hold of Ironhide's larger hand, perfectly content to be in the protective presence of his guardian once again.

Bumblebee may have been an adventurous, inquisitive little bot who nearly made his caretakers go on the fritz on numerous occasions, but he was also very cautious and _**very**_ clingy when surrounded by strangers. And this base had _**a lot**_ of strangers in it.

Ironhide didn't object to the youngling's clinginess, preferring to keep his little charge close by his side whenever they were at a strange base or outpost. The black mech ran a gentle finger up and down one of Bumblebee's auditory receptors, easily lulling the youngling into a calm state as they watched Hound and Bluestreak attempt to disentangle themselves. Bumblebee eagerly nuzzled the colossal palm, content clicks and chirps slipping out as a result of his guardian's discreet act of affection.

"I think we should leave them like this," Red Alert laughed, "Primus knows it'll be good punishment for all the glitchin' around they do."

Ironhide sighed, gazing down at the struggling mechs with exasperation and mild amusement, "Unfortunately, these two half-processed glitch-heads are our most reliable youngling-sitters, they need to be salvaged. If not fof their own sake, then for Silver's and mine."

Disentangling the two mechs was enough to make Ironhide simply want to heat up one of his plasma cannons, blow them apart, and then hand them to Ratchet to piece back together. Of course, the youngling that held tightly onto his hand complicated things quite a bit in the blowing-things-to-itty-bitty-bits department.

"Come here, I wanna show—"

Bumblebee was cut off mid-sentence by a loud explosion from outside, Ironhide grabbing the youngling and pushing him protectively behind himself and Inferno. A shrill alarm sounded, the lights suddenly flickering on and off before the back-up generators kicked in and then the room was engulfed in an eerie red glow.

"Decepticons! We're under attack!" yelled the voice of a base sentry from down the hallway. "All able Autobot units report to the western docks!"

"Slag!" swore Jazz, running towards the doorway to join the Autobot soldiers that had just ran by not even a moment ago. "Those Pit-spawn slaggin' scrap-heaps must have been following us!"

"Fireflight's with Silver, right?"

"Yeah, he had simulator training during first-shift."

Inferno, Red Alert, and the now disentangled Hound and Bluestreak were not too far behind. Ironhide didn't move, placing a hand atop the youngling's quivering head and glaring at the doorway.

"'Hide…" Bumblebee whimpered, holding onto one of his guardian's thick legs and gazing fearfully up at him when he heard the titanic plasma cannons crackle and roar to life.

"Stay close," Ironhide gruffly commanded, signaling for Hound and Bluestreak to cover him as they left the rec room. Bumblebee stayed pressed to the back of his leg, trying to remain as close to his guardian as possible without causing Ironhide to trip and fall over him. "Where was the infiltration?"

"The western docks," said a voice from just outside the door, "Eight Decepticons should be coming down this hallway any breem if my thermo-heat-tracker is correct." The Autobot scientist stood with one of his high-tech cannons slung high over his shoulder, a look of complete concentration over his faceplate. "When they turn the corner down there at the end of the corridor," Perceptor indicated which one with a small laser-pointer, "It should give us an astrosecond to freely discharge upon them before we must engage them in direct combat. Then we can…"

The scientist trailed off when he saw the reason why his fellow Autobots seemed so tense and uneasy about his well-constructed and fully-processed plan. A pair of baby blue optics gazed at Perceptor from behind one of Ironhide's thick legs, shrouded within the protective shadow of the weapons specialist.

"Sorry, 'Cept, but Bee comes first," reminded Hound, stepping alongside Ironhide whilst firing up his large silver rifle and shoulder mounted rocket launcher. "Time to kick some Decepticon aft."

His fellow Autobots fired up their weapons, forming a protective circle around the youngling and quickly moving Bumblebee further down the hallway. Perceptor called for back-up, not wanting to take a chance with the youngling's well-being and presence no matter the odds. "Bumblebee's with us, Prime," he said into his com-link, eyeing the far end of the hallway warily, "We're going to try to move him to a more secure location as soon as we're sure that the surrounding halls have not been—"

Everything seemed to explode as black smoke enveloped the main hallway, the sound of intense gunfire erupting as flames burned down the corridor. Bumblebee held on tightly to his guardian's leg, burrowing his head into the familiar metal plates and desperately tried to block out the angry buzzing of explosions from his sensitive auditory receptors.

Ironhide watched as his fellow Autobots collided with at least eight Decepticons down the corridor, the battle escalating immediately when Inferno viciously threw one of them out a massive bay window. His plasma cannons fired into the raging battle, their missiles smashing into the chassis and legs of the Decepticons. Ironhide's longing to completely destroy the Pit-slagging scum almost overrode his processor until he felt a tiny head burrow itself into his right leg and a frightened whimper reached his auditory receptors.

_Slag,_ Ironhide thought, firing at a Decepticon that was to his upper left, _I've gotta get Bee out of here._

No sooner had Ironhide finished that thought did Bluestreak jump in front of him and angrily shout, "Get Bee out of here!" Another 'Con was swiftly blown backwards by the young gunner. "I'll cover you! Go!"

Every thought of engaging in battle was wiped from Ironhide's processor when he felt the youngling tremble at his feet. Instinct overtook his internal systems and the weapons specialist quickly hefted the youngling into his arms while blasting a 'Con in the chassis with his right plasma cannon. "Hold on, little one," Ironhide rumbled, "I've got you." His internal systems whirred protectively when a tiny head snuggled into his heavily built shoulder and small arms wrapped around his thick neck.

Nothing was going to hurt his youngling.

Nothing.

It still amazed the weapons specialist how small Bumblebee was compared to the other younglings he had seen before the Youth Sector attack. The youngling in his arms was still only in his second frame, thus making Bumblebee seem extremely small and light in his burly arms.

Ironhide sprinted down the reddened hallway, Bumblebee nestled securely in his left arm whilst his right plasma cannon crackled with frightening power. "Quiet, little one," he soothed, silencing the quiet whimpers of the youngling. He didn't know which halls had been infiltrated by the 'Cons and his fellow Autobots were a fair distance behind him. All he knew was that he needed to get Bumblebee as far away from danger as possible.

He hoped that Optimus and the others were on their way. Ironhide did not want to risk the youngling's well-being. He and his comrades knew that those Pit-slagging 'Cons had no qualms about hurting a youngling. They had proven that vorns ago when they had attacked the Youth Sectors…

The sound of breaking glass and Bumblebee's tiny whimper of terror was the only warning Ironhide had before he narrowly avoided being tackled from the side by an immense Decepticon in the disguise of a Cybertronian jet.

"Slag!"

Ironhide viciously punched the large Decepticon who had smashed through one of the bay windows that lined the hallways. He took delight in the sound of crunching metal beneath his hardened fist and quickly fired a missile at point-blank range into the chassis of his enemy. His adversary howled in pain and anger, the buzz-saw-like weapon on its lower left arm slashing through the air and almost striking the youngling whom Ironhide clutched to his chest.

"Slaggin' scum!" Ironhide roared, his dark blue optics burning fiery red when the 'Con cruelly seized one of Bumblebee's arms from around his neck. The youngling screamed in pain and terror, desperately clutching onto his guardian and crying out to him. Blinded by rage, Ironhide maneuvered his right cannon onto his lower wrist and ferociously smashed it downwards onto his enemy's lower arm. The 'Con howled in agony, immediately releasing his hold on the youngling as his arm dangled almost uselessly at his side.

Ironhide quickly shifted his left side away from his foe to shield the youngling from another attack, firing up his cannon to maximum-power and unleashing six shots at point-blank range into the center chassis of his enemy; thus, completely obliterating the Decepticon's spark.

Ironhide glared down at the twisted wreckage that lay at his feet, his right plasma cannon pulsing and crackling with raw power. The small arm that hung around his neck and the tiny head that whimpered into his shoulder tore him out of his bloodthirsty haze, his optics shifting down to gaze at the quivering youngling who was nestled into his left side. He was horrified by what he saw…

"Primus, little one…"

The youngling's left arm was a twisted wreckage of sparking wires and wheezing hydraulics, bright blue fluid leaking out of the secondary energon line in his upper joints at a rapid rate. "Hurts," whimpered Bumblebee, baby blue optics glazed over in pain and small hand clenching at the back of Ironhide's neck.

"I know it does, little one," Ironhide whispered, running his fingers soothingly on the back of the little bot's head.

"Sorry," whispered the little bot, "Made noise."

Ironhide tightened his hold on the minibot and fiercely replied, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Bee, I'm the one who's supposed to protect you."

The little bot responded by making a small clicking sound as his internal systems gave an eerily quiet rev.

"Hey, I need you to stay with me, Bee, okay? I need you to show Sides and Sunny how tough you are, so that they'll stop with the short jokes about you minibots, okay?" This wasn't true, of course, since Bumblebee was the only minibot who _**wasn't**_ teased about his short stature by the twins. But Ironhide needed to keep the little bot from going into recharge, so if he needed to feed the youngling's competitive streak, then so be it. "Can you do that for me?"

He received a faint nod as his answer.

Younglings were not like fully-grown mechs, their systems could not handle trauma nearly as well and what was a minor energon leak to an adult mech could be crippling or life-threatening to a bot as young as Bumblebee or Fireflight. Ironhide knew that if Bumblebee went into an energon-deprived recharge, he may not be able to boot back up.

His spark could fade.

"That's my lil' warrior," he murmured, preparing himself and his cannons in case of another attack. "Ratchet'll fix you right up in a breem or two, just you wait. And he'll be so proud of you."

Nodding his head and snuggling into his guardian, Bumblebee quivered when the sounds of explosions echoed from both ends of the hallways. Ironhide cradled the young bot in his left arm while contacting both Ratchet and Perceptor on his com-link, telling them both of the youngling's precarious situation and deteriorating condition. "He isn't going to last very long with an injury like this," Ironhide growled whilst glancing around a corner, "He needs medical attention _now_."

"There's too many 'Cons at my end and we've got injured down here," Perceptor said over the com, "I can't leave and it's too dangerous for you to bring Bumblebee back here."

"I'm not too far from your current location," Ratchet informed, his voice capacitor sounding strained, like he was trying to speak to two people at the same time, "Optimus and the others are with me near the eastern storage rooms…"

Ironhide quickly scanned his surroundings and discovered that he was a few steps from the entrance to the eastern quad. Not the best setting with Decepticon jets flying all over the place. "I'm near the eastern quad, not too far from the conference rooms."

There was silence on the other end for a few moments…

"You still there, Ratchet?"

"Yes, it's just that…" The medic sounded frustrated, which was never a good sign. "Prowl managed to download the blueprints of the base and is currently trying to figure out the quickest route to your location."

"Well, hurry up!" Ironhide snarled, frustrated by the whole situation and his inability to relieve the pain that plagued his youngling. "He won't…"

"Ironhide?" demanded Ratchet, "Ironhide, what's wrong?!"

Clutching Bumblebee close to his chest, Ironhide crouched behind the metal wall of the quad that separated him from the titanic demon that stood amongst the twisted and burning remains of his fellow Autobots: four Beta Nebulae sentries. He quickly hushed the quiet whimpers of the youngling and used the shiny metal of a nearby energon machine to look out at the smoldering quad.

Megatron.

_Primus, _thought Ironhide, _This orn just keeps getting better and better._ The blood red eyes of the Decepticon Lord suddenly shifted over towards the entrance of the building, a cruel sneer twisting his fearsome face and bearing his jagged teeth. _I'm screwed._

* * *

I really hope I wrote this right and didn't butcher Ironhide's personality too much. It's rather hard to get into some of their heads, especially Optimus's and the other Autobots who I'm not familiar with (which is most, unfortunately). And I'm sorry for the amount of time it takes me to update, but I just really hope that the depth that I put into the characters works. I wanted Bumblebee to act his age and for Ironhide to come across as a believable guardian, so I hope I got it right. Please let me know if I should make any changes or revise this piece before I write any more. Any suggestions are welcome and I really hope you enjoy the story. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter II : Sideswipe

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

This was just something that popped into my head when I saw the movie in the theaters. Just how did Optimus Prime and the other Autobots cope with raising Bumblebee, the last of the younglings? Protocol only goes far when a youngling is involved...

I'm not very familiar with the series, so please be gentle. What I know is either from the movie or from quick, random reading. This is a numerous-part series focusing on Bumblebee's childhood and side-story of my earlier story _Little Brother_ and I would suggest reading that story first to give you an idea of the storyline, but constructive criticism is welcome. I will probably pay the closest attention to Autobots from the 2007 film since they seem to be the closest to Bumblebee, although others will be included. Whenever an idea pops into my head, I'll write about it. Thank you and please enjoy reading.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Sparkling - Newborn

Youngling - Child

Italics - Thoughts

Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes

Joor - About 6.5 Earth hours

Orn - About 13 Earth day

Vorn - About 83 Earth years

Youngling - Chapter II - Sideswipe

* * *

The smoldering wreckage that was once the eastern quad of Beta Nebulae Autobot Military Base and Outpost was a disturbing sight to the hardened weapons specialist. The tight grip that he had on Bumblebee became almost painful as he watched the Decepticon Lord slowly stride towards the entrance, his steel flail laying lazily in his left claw-like hand and his blood red optics leering down at the dead Autobots amongst his feet. 

Ironhide glared at the reflection, his dark blue optics not believing what they were seeing nor could his processor compute his _very_ bad luck. The trembling of the little bot in his arms did little to help his situation or sanity either. Why was Bumblebee so jittery anyways? The youngling had never seen Megatron before and from how Bumblebee's head was currently buried in his shoulder, Ironhide was pretty sure that the little bot had not caught a glimpse of the demon-like mech yet. So why…

"I can feel him," whispered Bumblebee, his voice barely audible from his hiding place, "In the darkness…"

Ironhide gazed down at the little youngling whom he cradled in his burly arms, an uneasy feeling twisting his spark when he heard the whispered words. He knew that there was a unique connection between his charismatic commander and the little youngling, far different than any emotional bond Ironhide or his fellow Autobots had developed with the minibot. Bumblebee seemed to be able to _sense_ whenever Optimus was near without the aid of a tracking device or energy-signature system. The youngling was still far too young to be outfitted with such advanced equipment.

The old weapons specialist had had suspicions about Bumblebee's creation and his Creator since Optimus Prime had assigned Ironhide the task of being the youngling's guardian. The Autobot commander had been his friend for countless vorns, and Ironhide knew when the taller mech was hiding something of importance. Ironhide had witnessed on numerous occasions how Optimus had desperately tried to distance himself from the bubbly youngling, failing miserably each and every time. Everything the youngling did simply seemed to enamor the illustrious Autobot leader.

"Protect him when I cannot," Optimus Prime had ordered his second-in-command and old friend when the lower chambers of an Autobot base in Iacon had come under attack by the Decepticons. "He _must_ survive at all costs. You are his guardian now, old friend, I know that Bumblebee will be safe with you."

Much to Ironhide's surprise and disbelief, the restricted lowest chambers of the base had in fact been housing a tiny youngling who was less than a half-vorn old. Not even the Cybertronian equivalent of a two-week-old Earth infant yet. No one except Optimus Prime and the sparkling's original caretakers knew even the faintest of details about Bumblebee's creation.

_Primus, help me,_ Ironhide had thought all those vorns ago when he had first laid optics on the tiny youngling clutching onto one of his commander's towering legs. _This was _not_ in the job description!_

Ironhide knew that Optimus viewed the youngling as a little brother, but the old weapons specialist often wondered just how much truth there was in the conclusions that he had drawn long ago. Just how much truth _was_ there behind the brotherly relationship that Optimus shared with Bumblebee?

Sensing another mech without any form of mechanical assistance was a rare trait. As far as Ironhide knew, _only_ siblings and Creators shared such a unique connection with another mech. Ironhide could faintly remember sharing such a connection with his Creator a very long time ago, shortly before the first Cybertronian Wars erupted and his Creator was slain in one of the hundreds of vicious battles that would slowly destroy Cybertron and divide its people for eons.

Bumblebee was far too young to understand the importance behind the feelings that he felt when in Optimus' presence. The youngling had not understood why Ironhide was so shocked by the fact that he could sense the Autobot commander whenever he was near him. It was at that moment that Ironhide's suspicions were confirmed: Optimus had to be either the Creator or the older brother of Bumblebee.

Ironhide wasn't sure which one Optimus was or even how the towering Autobot had managed to create the bubbly little youngling, but he did know that if that sense was present between the two Autobots because of a sibling bond…

Then could the same be said in regard to Optimus' other brother, Megatron?

Could the Decepticon Lord and little youngling sense one another?

Ironhide sincerely hoped not, for both his and Bumblebee's sake.

"I can feel _him_," repeated the youngling, his voice a quiet whisper and his baby blue eyes gazing up at his guardian, "He's so dark and angry…Who is he?"

_It's official,_ thought Ironhide sourly, _I'm screwed._

The sound of crunching echoed from the entrance and Ironhide quickly silenced the youngling's whispers, his right plasma cannon crackling and his hydraulics quietly hissing as he crouched lower to the ground. He had no qualms about fighting Megatron, but there was no way that he would do anything that would even remotely endanger his injured youngling. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no other chose and the old weapons specialist felt a rush of fear for the first time in many, many vorns.

_Now would_ _a _really_ good time t'show up, Optimus,_ _ol' pal, _Ironhide thought, his cannon aimed at the thick silver leg that had stepped through the quad entrance. _Slag!_

And that's when everything went to Pit…

The blazing red optics of one _very_ fragged-off Decepticon Lord immediately tore into the dark blue optics of the heavily built Autobot that had fired a missile into his right knee joint. Ironhide glared at the titanic mech that stood before him, quickly shifting his left side away in an attempt to shield Bumblebee from the demon's sight.

No such luck.

"What have we here?" mocked Megatron, his red optics glowering and his steel flail clicking in his clawed hand. "Prime's rusted, old bodyguard. Still online I see, I'm surprised that they still manufacture spare parts for an…"

Megatron trailed off, his optics widening slightly when he caught a brief glimpse of yellow and the sound of hushed whimpers reached his auditory receptors. The fierce glare that Prime's second-in-command shot at the Decepticon Lord was the only warning Megatron had before the old mech sprung from his crouching position and sprinted down the hallway.

The trio of plasma missiles that struck Megatron in the chassis and upper arms was a little unexpected as well…

Ironhide sprinted down the hallway as fast as his immense frame and wheezing hydraulics would permit, his cooling systems working overtime and optics scanning his surroundings for an escape. Bumblebee remained firmly snuggled into his left side, his tiny frame curled into a little ball so that his guardian could more easily maneuver and carry him. The infuriated roar that echoed from behind fueled Ironhide's systems to push themselves to maximum capacity and primal instinct pushed his body to unknown heights as the Autobot weapons specialist strove to put as much distance between Megatron and his youngling as possible.

"Foolish old mech!" Megatron snarled, his blood red optics locked onto the small yellow legs that were dangling beside the old Autobot's left hip joint. "You cannot escape me, Autobot scum!"

"I wouldn't be so cocky, slag-head!"

The little youngling in Ironhide's arms clicked in surprise, eagerly turning his tiny head to the side and gawking at the twin Autobots that were charging down the hallway to the left like twin demons from the fiery depths of Hell. "Sunny! Sides!"

"Get down!"

Sunstreaker charged headlong into Megatron, viciously launching seven missiles into the Decepticon's chassis before smashing the slightly larger mech into the hard steel wall behind him. Ironhide crouched low to the ground just as the window to his right side exploded and Sideswipe violently collided with another Decepticon right above them, his twin just down the hallway ferociously clawing at Megatron's face.

"No fair!" grumbled Sideswipe after he threw his adversary back out the window and crouched protectively in front of Ironhide and the youngling. "Sunny gets to pummel Megs while I get stuck with the tin-head's whiny bitch!"

"No," grunted Ironhide, charging his right plasma cannon up whilst gently placing Bumblebee into Sideswipe's surprised arms, "I'm stuck with the back-stabber while _you_ get Bumblebee out of here." The older mech quickly hushed the youngling's protests before locking optics with the twin. "You're faster, he'll be safer with you. Now move!"

"Well, normally I'd say this was an even exchange," Sideswipe said, gazing down at the tiny youngling that had been deposited into his arms, "But I was kinda hoping to…"

"Move it, Sideswipe!"

"I'm going, I'm going," Sideswipe grumbled, carefully tucking the youngling into his left side and dashing down the hallway, "No need to yell!"

The prankster twin barely made it five steps down the hall before his left leg was suddenly seized from behind by a particularly vicious-looking Megatron. Sideswipe grunted as he was jerked to the ground, landing roughly on his right arm in an attempt to shield Bumblebee from the full-impact of the fall.

"Give me that, boy!" growled Megatron, his claw-like hands reaching for one of the youngling's legs. Sideswipe scowled in frustration and kicked one of his mighty legs into the Decepticon Lord's face. The twin could hear Ironhide curse vehemently to his right when Starscream came crashing through the window once again and blindly opened fire upon all in the hallway.

"Starscream, you fool!" roared Megatron when a gunshot landed right next to his prone head. "I'll deact— "

"Get your aft in gear, Sides!" snarled Sunstreaker when he leapt onto Megatron's back and grabbed the tyrant's arm before he could reach the youngling. "Get Bee outta here!"

The quiet whimpers of the little youngling in his arms caused Sideswipe's optics to darken and his internal systems to rev with fierce determination. _You ain't gonna touch him_, _Megatron!_ Sideswipe thought ferociously, _Over my dead body!_ The Autobot warrior pulled himself to his feet and viciously punched Starscream in the face, sending the 'Con crashing through another window yet again.

"I've got ya, lil' buddy," whispered Sideswipe, clutching the youngling close to his chest when he heard the tell-tale sounds of two jets take off from behind him. The Autobot twin knew that the two Decepticons would try to attack him from the side if he ventured close enough to any of the bay windows. "Ya just stay real quiet and let Sides take care of the big, nasty Decepti-morons, ya hear?"

The youngling nodded his little head and snuggled tightly into Sideswipe's chest, quietly whispering, "'Hide and Sunny?"

"They're right behind us, Bee," Sideswipe reassured whilst turning down a long corridor that led into the heart of the military base, "Sunny's too psychotic to be killed by a whiny bitch or megalomanic and ol' Ironhide's too stubborn to roll over and die for anyone."

Sideswipe felt Bumblebee shudder and would've slapped himself in the head if his arms had not already been full with a little youngling in his left and a huge missile launcher in his right. _Nice going, genius, _Sideswipe thought, _Scare the lil' bot with descriptions of his guardian rolling over and dying. Real smooth._

"I…uh…didn't…umm…mean it like that, Bee," Sideswipe stuttered, trying his slagging best to reassure and comfort the sensitive youngling. "What I meant to say was that…umm…Sunny and Ironhide are too tough to die." The little bot stopped trembling and continued to clutch onto Sideswipe's shoulder, his injured arm cradled close against his exposed side. "Bee?"

Silence.

"Bee?"

"You said to be quiet," replied the youngling, "So I'm being quiet."

Silence.

"Cheeky lil' bot," Sideswipe rumbled, giving the youngling an affectionate flick atop his little head. "Pain in my aft is what ya are." The minibot immediately recognized the tender undertone in the warrior mech's voice and simply snuggled into his chest even more, his baby blue optics gazing anxiously down the reddened hallway. "Younglings…"

The Autobot twins were among the most vicious of warriors that Cybertron had ever produced, their ruthless fighting style and detached view towards death were infamous throughout the universe. Albeit Sideswipe was definitely the more sociable and laid-back of the two mechs, upon the battlefield he could be just as brutal as his more cold-blooded twin brother. The two had gotten into _a lot_ of trouble before Optimus Prime finally found them in the mines one orn and brought them aboard _Artemis I_.

Sideswipe had heard many stories about the great Optimus Prime, Commander of the Autobots and former co-ruler of Cybertron, and had been amazed by the benevolence that such a powerful being showed towards all sentient beings. The huge mech was also one of the most destructive fighters he had ever seen upon the battlefield too. Sideswipe pitied any creature that was slagging stupid enough to get on the towering mech's bad side.

Then again, Sunny had come _awfully_ close to that bad side quite a few times, but that was just Sunny. What could he say, his twin had an attitude problem.

A _really_ **_bad _**attitude problem.

The twin Autobots had been assigned light shifts and sentry duty during their first three orns onboard, Sideswipe socializing and learning the ins-and-outs of serving under the distinguished Optimus Prime. It had been on their third orn when the pair had finally decided to kick-back in front of the rec room's holovid and have a couple cubes of fresh energon. The perfect way to end an orn of long, boring shifts. Neither Sunny nor Sides had expected what happened next…

Unbeknownst to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, an enormous black mech had strode through the doors not even a breem later with a small minibot right at his heels. The large mech had immediately veered towards the firing range, pointedly telling the other mechs in the room to watch the little bundle of energy whilst he 'blew some holes in a couple of holo-'Cons.' Neither twin had bothered to avert their optics or receptors towards the curt sounding speaker.

Sideswipe had been alarmed a few moments later to find a little minibot curled up on the couch beside him, small legs just barely dangling over the edge and tiny head tilted to the side in mild interest. Most minibots were intimidated by the twins' towering height and non-too-friendly disposition towards them. After all, the pair had already gotten into an argument with two minibots onboard: Gears and Cliffjumper. Sideswipe had been shocked to see that the little bot had dared to come within twenty paces of Sunny or himself.

Primus, had he been in for a surprise…

The little bot had sat silently for but a moment, little feet moving in various shapes that appeared to be some poor excuse for a figure-eight, before he finally turned to gaze up at the two larger mechs and said something completely weird and outlandish…

"Hi!"

The cheerful tone and energetic disposition that had been overflowing in that one word had stunned both warrior mechs, leaving them flabbergasted and speechless for over a quarter of a breem. Baby blue optics had gazed up at the twins, as friendly and inviting as the voice that had just spoken to them. Both had soon realized that this was no normal minibot…

"What is that?!" Sunny had demanded, staring down at the oblivious creature with dumbstruck optics and a frazzled processor.

"That, my friend," spoke the calm voice of a particularly tall mech as he walked over, "Is a youngling."

"Trail!" the little bot had squealed, eagerly holding his arms out in a beseeching gesture to be picked up. "Watch?"

The broad-shouldered mech had chuckled at the little bot, easily reaching over the couch and hefting the youngling into his immense arms whilst snatching the remote from Sunny's lap. The twin mechs had simply stared at the…youngling in complete disbelief, their optics wide and glued on the tiny creature that snuggled into the larger mech's lap once he sat down on another couch.

"Can't have the little bot watching gory movies," informed Trailbreaker, promptly changing the channel to a different station. None of the other mechs at the nearby tables had seemed bothered by the movie suddenly being cut-off in the middle of a particularly dramatic scene, their faceplates actually displaying…relief. "'Hide'll have our tailpipes if the lil' bot has another round of nightmares. Bee refused to recharge after watching _The Orn of the Dead_ about two vorns ago."

The twins had simply stared at the little minibot for the remainder of their off-shift, shocked by the sight of a living youngling and the fact that the little thing appeared to be in perfect health. They had soon learned that the youngling, Bumblebee, had been no more than the Cybertronian equivalent of a two-year-old Earth child at the time and had quickly adjusted to the strict rules everyone had to follow when in the youngling's presence.

_Who would have thought not swearing could be **so** slagging difficult?!_ Sideswipe often wondered, finding it especially challenging not to use profane language when within auditory range of Bumblebee.

And unfortunately for Sideswipe and his fellow Autobots, the youngling was quite the sneaky little spy when he desired to be and frequently snuck into rooms that a little bot such as himself should not have ever gained access too.

_A dirty little prankster after my own spark,_ Sideswipe had once thought, _I am so proud._

Within a few short vorns, Bumblebee had become emotionally attached to the wise-cracking Sideswipe and bad-tempered Sunstreaker. Neither twin had noticed the transition until it was too late…

The infamous warrior twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, had been bestowed with a permanent slot on the roster for youngling-sitting, one of the most illustrious positions aboard the immense Autobot battleship _Artemis I_.

They had officially become one of Optimus Prime's most trusted and most loyal followers.

Watching the youngling seemed to earn you a great amount of respect and trust onboard _Artemis I._

Now, with the little youngling snuggled tightly into his side and the sound of jets soaring overhead, Sideswipe felt a protective fierceness surge through him like a waterfall and his dark blue optics darkened with a ruthless fervor that he had not felt for many vorns. He dared Megatron to try and take the youngling from him, because the only way that Pit-slagging microchip-processed tin-head was getting his claws on Bumblebee was over Sideswipe's dead body.

Of course, he wasn't much good to Bumblebee if he was dead.

_Where are you, chief?_ Sideswipe thought, the sound of footfalls on the ceiling above causing the youngling to tremble in his arms. _Bee needs you._

* * *

I must say, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are not the easiest to write, although I do find their personalities to be very entertaining and enjoyable to write. I just hope that I have written them correctly. It's not always the easiest thing to write and reseach as you go and I seem to be learning that the hard way. I'm starting to realize how little I really know about this series, but I'm trying my best!! Well, thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!! If you think there is anything I should change or have any suggestions, I am always happy to hear about them. Thank you again!! 


	3. Chapter III : Optimus Prime

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

And many thanks to Jason M. Lee for pointing out a few errors to me. I admit, I let my more sadistic side get the better of me, but what can I say, Sideswipe calling Starscream a whiny bitch just seemed to fit well. I simply couldn't resist. Flail on right hand, check. No more redundancy, check. No more glossary, check. Will definitely do a story surrounding the _Orn of the Dead,_ check. No more calling Starscream a whiny bitch…no check. What can I say, I can't help myself.

Okay, I'm sorry if I confused anyone, but I found the concept of siblings being able to sense or feel one another's emotions/when one is near, to be a very interesting notion. I know that some siblings claim to be able to do just that throughout the world. Very mysterious, but intriguing idea. So if you were confused by them being about to _sense_ one another, that simply means that siblings can feel one another's emotions and feel when their sibling is near. And siblings among Cybertronians seem to be really rare from my research, so this trait would be considered very rare and very defining in Cybertronian culture.

Youngling - Chapter III - Optimus Prime I

* * *

The sound of footsteps overhead became increasingly louder with every passing astrosecond and the rumbling sound of explosions echoed down the hallway from every distant corridor. Backup lights drowned the corridors in an eerie red light, casting ghostly shadows against the silver walls and making even the slightest of movements seem alien and threatening to the warrior mech. 

"This is not good," murmured Sideswipe, opening the door to the storage room at his back and quickly vanishing into the darkened chamber, "This is not good."

The warrior mech carefully shifted the youngling in his arms, cursing vehemently when he tried to contact his fellow Autobots and realized that the Decepticons must have recently placed a jamming frequency over certain sections of the base. There was no way for him to contact his comrades.

"Slag!" Sideswipe whispered, crouching behind a stack of crates towards the back of the room and shifting Bumblebee into a more comfortable position. "Looks like we're on our own, lil' buddy."

The youngling released a quiet whimper of pain when he was deposited in a dark corner between two large crates, Sideswipe running deft fingers down the gaping wound that was Bumblebee's left arm. The older mech sighed and told the little bot to stay put, moving to scan the darkened room for any possible escape routes and disappearing into the cavernous darkness.

Bumblebee pressed himself tightly into the little corner, optics straining to adjust to the yawning darkness and auditory receptors swiveling in an attempt to pick up on his protector's quiet footsteps. His spark twisted with fear for both himself and his caretakers and he wanted nothing more than to be back on _Artemis I,_ curled up in the enormous chair that was in Optimus' office.

The little youngling whimpered, his spark desperately calling out to the towering mech and subconsciously searching through the haze of chaotic emotions for the familiar Autobot. Instead, all Bumblebee found and sensed was darkness…

Optimus Prime was one of Bumblebee's favorite playmates because the regal mech never grew frustrated with the little bot no matter the situation. The Autobot commander was always calm and soothing when around the youngling, warmly indulging Bumblebee in his childish activities and silently watching over the minibot whenever his fellow Autobots were on-shift.

Of course, the comical image of one of the most powerful beings in the entire universe playing hide-and-seek with a rambunctious youngling had seemed far-fetched to even the most flighty and talkative of mechs. The vast majority of the Cybertronian population had dismissed the whispered rumors that a youngling existed amongst the Autobot forces, few mechs willing to believe that a sparkling could ever be created without the All-Spark or a femme.

None considered the mysterious powers of the Creation Matrix.

Bumblebee had long ago become accustomed to the curious stares and whispered words that he had received the few times he had gone off-ship with his caretakers. Sunny had viciously attacked a Neutralist who had called the youngling a sparkless drone, albeit Bumblebee was confused as to why the mech would call him such a name when he obviously was a youngling. The older mechs had still refused to tell him of the statement's rude implications even after two orns of pleading on his part. When asked, 'Hide had vehemently snarled that the mech was an 'idiotic glitch-head who didn't know a microchip about the real world.'

Bluestreak and Hound had then been assigned youngling-sitting duty whilst at the base and had managed to distract the little bot from said confrontation for over two long orns. And then the attack had come…

The youngling's internal systems revved quietly, his voice capacitor clicking and his optics closing in an attempt to ward off the frightening darkness. Gunfire echoed into the storage room from the outside corridors, the sound of breaking glass causing his audio receptors to swivel in alarm. Bumblebee could hear the faint sound of footsteps to his left and was instantly soothed by the familiar bright blue optics glowing in the darkness above him.

"Stay real still and quiet, Bee," whispered Sideswipe, crouching down atop a stack of crates and firing up his missile launcher. He watched as the locked door was slammed from the opposite side, groaning with every blow it was dealt and sparking when a claw-like hand violently tore through the center of the steel doorway. "Megs ain't gonna know what hit him."

The vicious snarl that resounded throughout the storage room caused Bumblebee to shudder and press himself even further into the hard wall behind him. His spark ached from the deep darkness, cruel claws seizing his immature emotions and whispering cold words into his young processor. Bumblebee closed his optics tightly and willed the scary mech to go away, desperately wishing for Optimus to come and take his place right now.

Optimus would make things better, he always made things better. That was just what Optimus did after all.

The feelings that Megatron projected were vastly different than any Bumblebee had ever felt before, his inexperienced and youthful spark overwhelmed by the sinister aura of the Decepticon Lord. Everything about the cruel mech terrified Bumblebee and made him want to run into his caretakers' loving arms. He had never felt scared when he was around Optimus, the towering mech only showing warmth and affection towards the little bot; so why was this strange being so different?

Why could Bumblebee _sense_ him?

Bumblebee's processor whirred and his internal systems revved, the youngling's small frame exhibiting obvious signs of distress from both his physical injuries and the mental/emotional stress that was assailing his young spark. The little minibot desperately tried to feel for Optimus' burning warmth in the distance, but his innocent attempts were sternly thwarted every time by the vast darkness that was Megatron.

Ironhide had been _very_ surprised when Bumblebee had told him that he could sense whenever Optimus was near and could feel the larger mech's emotions if he was close enough to him. Bumblebee didn't understand what was so odd about it, after all, he'd been able to sense Optimus since he could remember…

Bang! Thump!

"Eat plasma, slag-head!" sneered Sideswipe, launching six missiles at Megatron the astrosecond the door was finally ripped apart. The wise-cracking twin leapt down from the crates and quickly scooped the little bot up into his arms once again. "Time to pump it, lil' buddy!" Bumblebee closed his optics and snuggled into Sideswipe's side, desperate to escape the dark emotions that he felt engulfing the room. Unfortunately, Sideswipe was heading straight for the being that was projecting said negative emotions. "Here goes nothing…"

Sideswipe knew that he was taking a chance by running straight towards the shot-down Megatron, but at this point in time the twin really didn't have any other chose. It was either make a break for the door or be stuck in a crammed storage room with a fragged-off and glitchier-than-Sunny Decepticon Lord.

Sideswipe decided to take his chances with the door, thank you.

Sideswipe tore out of the shredded doorway and kicked the groaning Megatron square in the face, his impish laughter resounding throughout the demolished hall. "See ya in Hell, Megahead!"

The youngling clicked softly at the string of curses his protector spewed at the next Decepticon they encountered further down the hallway, his processor whirring to define the strange words that Ironhide always scolded the older mechs for saying when around the little bot. Bumblebee knew better than to say those words when around his gruff, cannon-totting guardian. Unfortunately, the twins were often less conscientious…

And Sideswipe definitely had quite the large, multi-language swear-cabulary if Bumblebee's processor was functioning properly. Ironhide would have gone on the fritz if he had heard the many colorful obscenities coming out of the twin's voice capacitor as he viciously punched Starscream in the face and then threw him out a nearby window _again._

"Well, people say the third time's the charm," joked Sideswipe whilst he sprinted down yet another corridor, "Maybe this time the whiny bitch'll stay out."

Bumblebee shuddered when he felt a dark presence, his optics widening when Sideswipe suddenly lurched forward and violently crashed into the corner of a nearby doorway. The twin twisted himself into a forward roll at the last second, landing hard on his right side in a desperate attempt to protect the youngling. Fiery pain tore up his right arm and shoulder joint, an agonized gasp tearing its way from his voice capacitor.

"Slag," Sideswipe groaned, rolling over and adjusting Bumblebee whilst fixing Megatron with a _very_ fragged-off glare. The Decepticon Lord stood at the far end of the hallway, his combined arms forming his legendary fusion cannon which had grazed the Autobot's right shoulder. "Where does he keep coming from?!"

"Sides!" Bumblebee cried, rolling out of the larger mech's arms and attempting to help the injured twin sit up. "I'm sorry! I could…feel him coming, but I didn't…warn you and…"

The sarcastic twin groaned, his processor whirring from the harsh impact and his right missile launcher sparking and crackling from frayed wires and blown circuits. Every joint in his frame felt like it had just been repeatedly stomped on by one of Trailbreaker's enormous feet. "Slag! That thing packs a wallop!"

Optimus clearly hadn't been glitching when he had warned them about Megatron's slagging nasty fusion cannon; fragging thing had only grazed him yet he felt like a Constructicon had just run him over.

"Go away!" cried Bumblebee, standing in front of the injured Autobot and glaring at the approaching Megatron, "Leave him alone!"

"No, Bee, get over here…" Sideswipe tried to grab hold of the youngling but soon realized that his right arm was completely useless and crumbled back down to the ground in a heap of pain. "Bee…"

"It is not him that I desire, youngling," sneered Megatron, striding up to the little bot and grabbing him by the little scruff-like bar at the back of his neck. The youngling stared with wide optics at the titanic mech, his tiny frame instinctively curling into a tiny ball. "Such a puny bot, far too small to ever be of use on the battlefield," remarked the Decepticon Lord, viciously kicking Sideswipe in the side and holding Bumblebee just out of the mech's reach. "I wonder why Prime and his Autobot scrap-heaps waste valuable resources on such a weak, little thing?"

"Picking on defenseless younglings? Again? Primus, your creator would be so proud, Megs," taunted Sideswipe, trying to draw the ruthless mech's attention away from the tiny bot. "Or are you too fragging scared to take on a mech your own size?"

"I would choose your words more carefully, Autobot," growled Megatron, one of his wicked claws tapping on Bumblebee's injured arm and causing the youngling to cry out in pain, "Or else that inventor comrade of yours may have to design a new arm for your little friend here."

"You sparkless bastard!" Sideswipe snarled, murderously glaring at the towering Decepticon whilst forcing himself to his feet and firing up his undamaged, twin fiery sabers. Every joint in his frame screamed at him to surrender, but his slagging stubborn spark _refused_ to abandon the youngling or admit defeat to anyone, especially Pit-fragging Megatron.

"Foolish mech," sneered Megatron, smirking as the ceiling above them groaned and a massive fist came crashing through the steel rafters. "You have no idea who he is, do you?"

"Time is short, Lord Megatron," hissed the menacing voice of Blackout, whose red optics were flickering between his commander, the tiny bundle he held in one of his claws, and the far end of the hallway. "We must hurry..."

All while hanging upside down through a giant hole in the ceiling, of course.

"Prime is here."

"I know," growled Megatron, "I can _feel_ him."

Sideswipe glowered, his dark blue optics fixed on the two Decepticons. The only way those two Pit-slagging 'Cons were taking Bumblebee was over his smoldering, dead body. The twin crouched low into an offensive stance, his fiery sabers crackling and…

"Put him down, Megatron!"

Every molecule in the corridor seemed to freeze when the commanding voice of Optimus Prime resounded throughout the red-hued hallway and cut through the sparks of the Decepticons. The infuriated dark blue gaze and stone-cold voice of the fuming Autobot commander caused the six individuals behind him to shudder in slight fear, none of them having ever seen their leader so enraged before in their long lives. Prowl, Ratchet, Jetfire, Nightbeat, Trailbreaker, and Wheeljack eyed their commander cautiously, shocked by the fierce aggression and furious hostility that was radiating off of him in waves.

"Prime," snarled Megatron, a malicious smirk crossing his faceplate and his optics shining at the sight of his archenemy and slightly older brother. "I've been waiting, brother."

"Put the youngling down, Megatron," repeated Optimus, his optics locked onto the little bot, "He has nothing to do with our battles nor our grievances."

Bumblebee locked optics with the older mech, his spark warming at the presence of the Autobot commander and his internal systems revving in a desperate call to be taken from the formidable claws that held him. The deep darkness and frightening cold that had been tearing at his young spark had abated the instant the burning aura of Optimus had charged down the hall, the majestic Autobot's warm affection and boundless love instantly soothing the tiny bot.

Optimus would always come for him. Always.

"Megatron…" growled Optimus, his voice dangerously cold and his stance taking on a hostile, warning undertone.

The Decepticon Lord smirked and said, "You know you can't hide anything from me, Prime," before tossing the injured youngling into the air where Blackout immediately seized the tiny bot and disappeared through the hole in the ceiling.

"Slag!"

The hallways were instantly filled with the roars of both Autobot and Decepticon alike, the ceiling collapsing as four Decepticon jets tore through the rafters and launched missiles upon the eight Autobots. The seven lower ranked Autobots immediately ascended the walls and attacked the jets, desperately fighting to reach Blackout and the crying youngling.

Optimus was immediately tackled by the snarling Megatron, his brother glaring down at him sadistically and fighting to hold down the equally strong mech beneath him. The Autobot commander lurched forward and threw Megatron across the hallway, staring at the other mech with anger and suspicion.

The smirk on Megatron's face caused Optimus' spark to pulse with intense fear and horrible dread, his processor conflicting with his suspicions until his slightly younger brother uttered five devastating words…

"I can _sense_ him, Prime."

* * *

Yet another chapter, and I hope I got Optimus right because personally I'd be pretty ticked off if I saw someone holding any child by the scruff of their neck. The guy's just hard for me to write, I don't know why though and it's annoying me. 

And in case anyone was confused, Megatron is holding Bumblebee by a small bar at the back of his neck, almost like the sensitive scuff on the back of an animal's neck that their mother's pick them up by. Such actions cause most animal infants to relax and go limp because of the release of natural endorphins in this area caused by the mother's actions, thus the infant not fighting back. And apparently I have decided that the same can go for Cybertronian younglings. Hope it doesn't seem too weird, just a unique idea on my part, the biology-and-zoology-geek that I am.

Oh, and calling a Cybertronian a sparkless drone would be like us calling a perfectly normal person, very rudely and meanly, a stupid retard.

Thank you for reading and I hope this chapter lives up to everyone's expectations. Suggestions are always welcome and I hope you enjoyed it. Now to start on _The Orn of the Dead,_ mwahaha.


	4. Chapter IV : Jazz

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank everyone that has been kind enough to review my stories and to leave comments and suggestions for me. And I would especially like to thank Jason M. Lee for giving me so much information on the Dinobots and the other continuities. Any form of help with a character's personality or the timeline is very much appreciated.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter IV - Jazz

* * *

The sound of explosions and gunfire resounded throughout the outer sectors of the base, smoke clouding the outermost hallways and flames raging within the interior. Seven figures climbed through a hole in the base's roof, their optics locked on a black form that was tearing through the billowing flames. Unfortunately, all hope of pursuit was quickly dashed by the sudden appearance of the Decepticon Lord and four of his aerial followers. 

The Autobots and Decepticons ferociously collided, vorns of pent-up aggression pouring out in brutal punches and destructive plasma missiles. Hatred and anger burned in the air, smoke clouding the darkened sky as flames raged throughout the outer sectors and the faint boom of explosions could be heard in the distance.

Each of the Autobots selected a target and attacked one of the Seekers with every weapon at their disposal, the overwhelming need to rescue Bumblebee pumping through their systems like a super virus and compelling them to fight with a fury unlike any they had ever felt before in their long lives.

Trailbreaker was the first of the Autobots to meet his adversary, narrowly evading the oncoming Ramjet and saving himself from a lethal collision. He was the biggest of his comrades and stood the greatest chance against the glitchy Seeker who tended to ram into anything and everything that appeared on his scanners.

"Lets see what you think of Mr. Missile-Launcher," Trailbreaker quipped, keeping a close optic on the jet and preparing to fire his none-too-friendly projectiles. "Come and meet your maker."

Nightbeat wasted no time jumping into the fray and immediately launched seven missiles at the closest Decepticon. Unfortunately, he wasn't exactly expecting the brutal punch to the back of the head that sent him flying across the roof. Thankfully, Nightbeat was nimble enough to right himself into a handspring and turn around to face his sneaky attacker. None other than Skywarp stood before him, smirking at his little sneak attack.

"You sneaky little bastard!" snarled Nightbeat, viciously charging into Skywarp and hurling the Decepticon across the roof with a ruthless sidekick. "I'll show you who's clever here!"

Thrust went flying through a nearby tower, his propulsion caused due to the fact that he had flown too low and ended up on the heated business-end of Wheeljack's new and improved double-barreled laser gun. A gaping hole was left in its wake, muffled groans floating from the cavity.

"No recoil?!" whispered the inventor in awe, "Yes! It works! It works! It didn't blow up!!"

"That's great, Wheeljack!" yelled Ratchet sarcastically whilst making quick fixes to Sideswipe's mangled right arm, "Now just make sure that he doesn't get back up and everything will be Pit-slagging great!"

The sound of screeching metal-against-metal alerted the ornery medic to a mid-air collision not even twenty feet above his head, sparks pouring down over the two exposed Autobots.

"Kick his aft, 'Fire!" shouted Sideswipe, his inability to participate in the battle driving him glitchy, "Make him eat jet fumes!"

"Would you sit still!!"

"Owwww!! What'd I do?!"

"Have you no honor, Star?!" growled Jetfire, tackling Starscream in mid-air and forcibly wrenching him down towards the courtyard below before he had the chance to rain missiles upon his fellow Autobots.

"Get off, you—"

"A youngling?!" Jetfire yelled, practically strangling his one-time friend after they crash landed on the hard silver flooring. The realization that Starscream was cruel enough to harm a youngling nearly made Jetfire sick, images of the bubbly and loving Bumblebee flashing through his processor. "How in the Pit can you bring yourself to **_hurt_** a youngling?!"

"You always were soft, Jetfire," wheezed Starscream, flipping the Autobot jet off of him and rolling into a fighting position "Too soft for your own good."

"It is mechs like you that will bring about the extinction of our entire race!" said the scientist, astonished by the lack of forethought behind the Seeker's actions. "He is the last of the younglings and you wish to **_kill_** him!? What kind of grand plan is that?! How is it soft that I do not wish to kill a youngling?!"

"That single youngling will not matter in the long run," retorted Starscream, his arrogance sickening the Autobot scientist. "His creation must have been nothing more thank a fluke. The All-Spark will create new younglings and will revitalize our race. No other race will be able to stand against us."

"You're even more foolish than Megatron if you truly believe that you can rule the entire universe!" Jetfire yelled, frustrated by his former friend's cruelty and egotism. "I'm amazed that he even keeps a conspirator like you around!"

"Megatron _**is**_ a fool!"

The two fighter jets fired upon one another before transforming and taking their long awaited battle into the darkened skies. Neither paid attention to the faction leaders and the bitter hatred and anger that was burning between them.

"How long did you think you could hide him from me, Prime?" snarled Megatron, his blood red optics locked onto his older brother. "I could _feel _him the moment I entered this base."

"His existence is of no consequence to your own," retorted Optimus, the desperate need to get to the youngling almost overwhelming him, "Return the youngling before it is too late."

"No."

"He is injured, Megatron!" snarled Optimus, patience wearing dangerously thin as frustration flooded his internal systems. "He needs medical attention! Do you— "

The sudden sound of an explosion in one of the outer sectors drew the two mechs attention away from one another to focus on the billowing smoke and raging flames that had engulfed one of the large warehouses. The titanic black form of Blackout could just barely be made out standing upon one of the neighboring rooftops.

"Bumblebee," Optimus gasped, his spark clenching with fear as the flames rose higher and spread into the neighboring buildings. His blue optics hardened and Optimus ferociously rammed into Megatron, knocking the larger mech into Thundercracker and running towards the explosion.

He would save his youngling.

Bumblebee curled into a tight little ball, the Decepticon's thick fingers wrapped tightly around the scruff-bar at the back of his neck. His wide optics burned as smoke flooded into the air around them, his cooling systems working extra hard to try to accommodate for the lack of protective equipment on his small frame. Every slight move or bump that the larger mech made caused Bumblebee's injured side to ache and throb in horrible pain.

Quiet whimpers escaped his voice capacitor, the numerous scrapes and dents that littered Bumblebee's small body testament to his earlier attempts to escape the big mech. One particularly large dent upon his upper shoulder reminded him why fighting back was not always the brightest idea when your opponent was over three times your size. Maybe he was too gutsy for his own—

The youngling yelped in surprise when the world suddenly whirled around him and he was flung high into the air, the hard earth rushing up to meet his wide blue optics and flailing frame within a few short astroseconds. _This is it,_ Bumblebee thought, _I'm going to the big junkyard in the sky!_

But Bumblebee never met the ground…

"I've got ya, lil' buddy!"

Familiar arms enveloped his battered frame, Bumblebee's little body instinctively curling into the warmth and comfort that this being's strong chassis and broad shoulders offered to him.

"Pump his aft full o' plasma, Sunny!"

Bumblebee buried his tiny head into Blades' chassis, the sound of missiles raining down upon the rooftops echoing in his auditory receptors and causing him to burrow even deeper into the street fighter's side. Blades dropped into a forward roll when a big missile flew by his head, narrowly missing Jazz and Sunstreaker as they tackled Blackout.

"Decepticons incoming!" shouted Inferno from his position atop a nearby tower alongside Ironhide and Red Alert. "Move it, Blades!"

The sound of engines roared in Blades' auditory receptors, his legs pumping hard and his internal systems revving as he desperately tried to reach his fellow Autobots at the lookout tower. Blades was usually a very straightforward, slice-'em-and-dice-'em kind of mech, but the little bot that was nestled firmly in his arms complicated his normal scheme of attack. As a result, Blades did something that he normally would not have ever considered doing in a hundred vorns…

Blades ran like the wind and prayed to Primus that he didn't get shot in the aft for his efforts in luring those Pit-slagging Decepti-morons towards the tower where his waiting, and hiding, comrades would shoot them down.

_Slaggin' punks,_ Blades thought, _Pickin' on our little Bee!_

Every whimper that escaped the youngling simply fuelled Blades' insatiable desire to slash and gut one of those Decepticon Seeker punks from antenna to tailpipe. And that was exactly what he did when the opportunity presented itself…

The mighty roar of Thundercracker's engines alerted the vicious Autobot to the jet's position and allowed him to pinpoint the exact astrosecond the Decepticon Seeker would attack him. Blades smirked ruthlessly, dropping onto the ground and rolling in a way that would shield the youngling from any form of impact or attack. And then Blades charged up his rotor blades on his right arm and sliced through the air directly above him.

The sound of metal slicing through metal was like music to his auditory receptors.

Blades watched as Thundercracker swiveled through the air and retreated into the outermost sectors of the base. The street fighter grinned sadistically, shifting himself into a more comfortable position for the youngling before resuming his earlier sprint towards the lookout tower.

Blades knew for a fact that the Decepticons would not hesitate to shoot him since: A) He was an Autobot; B) He was slowed down by having to carry the youngling; and C) They did not even know a youngling existed, which meant that they had no qualms about killing it since they didn't know what it was. All they were doing was targeting whoever their leader told them too.

"Pop 'em, Blue!"

Blades quickly ran through the front entranceway of the enormous lookout tower and braced himself alongside one of the thick inner walls, his large frame curling around the youngling to protect him from the impact of the blast. The walls and ground shook as Bluestreak, Ironhide, and Inferno unleashed countless missiles upon the many Decepticons that had arrived on the rooftop to assist Blackout and the Seekers. Bumblebee panted from shock and exhaustion, the tremors of the explosions causing him to curl even further into the big mech's chassis.

"Bee!"

The familiar voice of Jazz resounded throughout the room as Blades deposited the little youngling into the Special Operations agent's waiting arms and immediately went to guard the doorway alongside the psychotic warrior twin.

Jazz practically crushed the little bot to his chassis and enveloped him in his strong arms, gently embracing Bumblebee and soothingly murmuring, "We've got ya, lil' buddy, ya're safe." The older mech rocked the little bot back and forth, murmuring reassurances into his receptors and practically kissing the top of the youngling's head in absolute relief. "Thought they got ya, Bee, I really did." Jazz released a big breath and whispered, "Scared me t'death, lil' buddy. Thank Primus, ya're okay."

Bumblebee simply buried his head into the crook of Jazz's neck and reveled in the older mech's glowing warmth. Jazz would protect him.

"I ain't lettin' ya outta my sight ever again," Jazz vehemently declared, his claws wrapping protectively around the little bot's back, "I don't think my spark can take another scare like that, ya lil' rascal. I've never been so..."

Bumblebee whimpered when Jazz accidentally touched his mangled left arm and caused a terrible jolt of pain to rush through his small frame. The older immediately leapt back and surveyed the battered youngling before him, amazed by the countless abrasions, scrapes, dents, and torn wires that he was able to locate from one quick scan.

"Where's Perceptor?!" Jazz demanded, frantically looking around the room and not seeing the brilliant Autobot, "Where's that Pit-slagging scientist?!"

"I'm right here!"

Jazz was promptly pushed aside by said Pit-slagging scientist, who wasted no time in scooping up the youngling and taking him into one of the inner hallways. He placed the youngling on a staircase and quickly ran internal and external scans on his conditions, the occasional wince or wordy curse from Perceptor making Jazz anxious as to Bumblebee's physical condition.

"Uncouth imbeciles," growled Perceptor, unsubspacing a scanner whilst his right hand folded and twisted into his forearm before being replaced by an odd tool that looked like a combination of pliers, clippers, wrenches, and scalpels. "If I ever discover which of those troglodytes did this, I'll…"

Bumblebee shifted at the sight of the ominous medical tool, his frightened clicks drawing the anxious Jazz to his side and away from the doorway. The explosions outside had dulled to a low roar and the shouting of their fellow Autobots could be heard echoing from the upper levels of the tower.

"The secondary energon line in his left arm has been grazed just below his lower elbow joint," Perceptor observed, his deft fingers running up and down the mangled limb. "I'll have to implement surgical treatment right here. I am shocked that he has not fallen into energon-deprived stasis yet."

Bumblebee cringed, shifting further up the staircase when Perceptor unsubspaced another set of medical scalpels and attempted to start repairing his injured arm. Perceptor raised an impatient eye ridge, fixing the youngling with hard blue optics that dared Bumblebee to defy him whilst the world around them was devastated by missiles and rockets. The little bot would need reassurance and comfort, and who better to give those supportive feelings than…

"Jazz, sit with him."

The Special Operations agent instantly picked up the youngling and gently placed him in his lap, wrapping one arm around the little bot's side and running claw-like fingers soothingly down his tiny head. Bumblebee leaned back into Jazz's chassis and clicked in quiet apprehension, his youthful unease towards sharp medical instruments causing every wire and circuit in his small frame to instantly tense when Perceptor carefully prodded his way towards the leaking energon line.

"It's okay, lil' buddy, I'm here," Jazz reassured, his strong arms tightening around the tiny bot and his right hand taking hold of Bumblebee's own and rubbing small circles into his smaller hand. "It'll all be over soon, Bee, but ya gotta be strong. Ya gotta show those punks who's boss, lil' buddy, ya got me?"

Bumblebee nodded, crying out suddenly and burying his head into Jazz's shoulder when a horrible jolt of pain shot through his upper left side. Perceptor worked diligently, his welder and scalpel moving at a precise yet quick rate that would have made Ratchet proud if he had not been busy tending to a certain wise-cracking twin on the other side of the base.

"Don't ya 'ave any painkillers ya can give 'im?!" Jazz demanded, "He's goin' t'go into energon deprivation if ya don't— "

The sound of explosions drew Jazz's attention away from Bumblebee and towards the lower entranceway of the stairwell. He could hear the colorful curses of his two short-tempered comrades, their loud voices filtering through every nook and cranny and making Jazz wonder what their creators would think if they saw them now.

They were probably rolling over in their graves at this very moment.

Then again, Sunny and Blades sounded like they were having the time of their life blowing various things apart down there. Jazz almost pitied the next Decepticon to come into their optical line of vision.

Almost.

"What _did_ you collide with, little one?" questioned Perceptor whilst soldering the energon line at the joint and then moving on to the frayed wiring and blown circuits that surrounded the wound.

"A jet."

"What'd he look like?" Jazz demanded, his coolant heating at the mere thought of the Decepticon that had been slagging foolish enough to touch the youngling. "When I getta 'old o' him…"

"'Hide blew him up."

"Oh."

Jazz simmered down after his aspiration of slowly and painfully dismantling the Pit-fragging Decepticon jet were thwarted by Ironhide's titanic plasma cannons and the missiles that lounged within them. He had truly been hoping to be the one to rip apart the 'Con that had hurt little Bumblebee.

"Where're those painkillers, 'Cept?" Jazz repeated, the youngling's muffled whimpers and pain-filled squirming unnerving the usually cool-headed mech.

"I have no anesthetics on my frame, Jazz," Perceptor snapped, frustrated by his untimely lack of helpful sedatives. "I cannot fully seal the wound without administering at least some form of local anesthetic, which I currently do not have, and I really should not even be performing _any_ type of surgical procedure without first applying some form of general anesthetic and then administering an energon infusion directly afterwards. I do not know how someone as young as Bumblebee would cope with such an abrupt drain on his undeveloped— "

"Okay!" interrupted Jazz, fearful for his comrade's sanity and the youngling's arm as Perceptor traveled down the road of undecipherable sentences yet again. "Jus' do what ya gotta do an' then we'll get Bee to th' Hatchet within th'next couple o' —"

"Bring it on, slag-head!!"

"Eat plasma, bitch!"

The three mechs that were in the stairwell glanced at one another in bemusement and shook their heads at the complete destruction that their comrades wreaked on the world around them.

"Those two _**so **_need to be supervised," groaned Jazz.

"Uh huh."

"Agreed."

* * *

Yay!! It's finally done!! Sorry about the wait, I've been very busy lately and I wanted to get this chapter just right, especially since Jazz played a key role. I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations and that I didn't make it too choppy. Megatron is just the greatest brother, isn't he? I truly do wonder how he would handle a youngling, don't you? Well, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! 


	5. Chapter V : Ironhide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank everyone that has been kind enough to review my stories and to leave comments and suggestions for me. And I would especially like to thank Jason M. Lee for giving me so much information on the Dinobots and the other continuities. Any form of help with a character's personality or the timeline is very much appreciated.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter V - Ironhide

* * *

The sound of explosions and gunfire died down moments after Perceptor finished temporarily soldering the youngling's secondary energon line and removed the largest of the dents throughout his small frame. Loud footfalls and yelling could be heard from the higher levels of the stairwell, drowning out the colorful curses and vulgar taunts of their more violent comrades near the tower's entrance. 

"Where is he?!" demanded a frantic voice from another level up, "I swear, if the youngling isn't— "

"'Hide!"

Jazz and Perceptor were roughly shoved out of the way by the hulking figure of the Autobot's resident weapons specialist. The titanic black mech scooped the little bot into his formidable arms and cradled him to his broad chassis whilst muttering, "Never lettin' you out of my sight ever again. Trouble follows you everywhere."

"Careful, careful," warned Perceptor, "I just soldered the secondary energon line in his left arm. It's only a temporary seal, too much jostling could reopen it."

Bumblebee snuggled into the familiar crook in his guardian's side and curled into a tight little ball, content to be safe within the arms of his protector once again. The little bot listened to the familiar voices around him, soothed by the deep baritones and rugged accents of the older mechs. Unfortunately, it was not long before explosions and gunfire rocked the ground once again.

"We got trouble!" yelled Blades whilst barricading the entranceway, "Blackout and some of his henchmen are gettin' back up. And it looks like ol' Megahead ain't that far behind either."

"I thought you blew his head to Pit, Jazz!" demanded Inferno. Remembering Jazz shooting the colossal 'Con at pointblank range whilst Blades snatched up Bumblebee and made a break for the tower.

"I did!" replied an indignant Jazz, "Obviously the slagger's 'ead's thicker than— "

CRACK.

"Watch your language."

"Sorry."

The cool-headed and flashy Special Operations agent was notorious for forgetting himself when things didn't go his way and then cussing like Lygun sailor despite the little bot's presence. Nevertheless, his fellow Autobots thoroughly enjoyed keeping him in line and were quick to correct his language glitch whenever it presented itself. Unfortunately for Jazz, said correction usually involved a swift punch or vicious wrench to the cranium if Ratchet was within firing range.

Jazz still swore that Ratchet and his medical equipment had a conspiracy against him and the twins. It wasn't like they ever did anything _that_ life-threatening, was it?

"I believe that there's another exit about two levels down," informed Red Alert as he rechecked the base's schematics. "The central stairwell should lead right to one of the adjoining hallways as long as there is no structural— "

BANG.

The thick double doors and various objects that the two warrior mechs had placed in front of the doorway groaned beneath the brute force attack from the outside. Blades and Sunstreaker both rammed their shoulders up against the barricade, hissing when the big 'Cons on the other side rammed it once again.

"Slaggin' bitches!" snarled Sunstreaker, his large frame struggling to keep the two doors firmly closed. "Feels like Megatron himself is— "

An animalistic roar echoed throughout the corridors of the tower as an enormous dent formed in the upper portion of the right door. The sound of gunfire and explosions could be heard clearly once again, the ferocity of the battle intensifying with each passing astrosecond.

"Pit-fraggin' slag-head!" yelled Blades when a vicious claw speared through the door directly above his head, "What does that psycho want?!"

Bumblebee peeked over his guardian's broad shoulder and watched the ominous doorway as it was rammed from the other side by the Decepticon Lord himself. The little bot could sense a vast coldness and a glowing warmth beyond the walls. His young spark instinctively called out to both burning entities, torn between the familiarity that the two beings shared and his knowledge of their **_very _**different CPU processors. The youngling clicked softly and struggled to see over his guardian's shoulder, intent on discovering the relation between the Decepticon Lord and himself.

Of course, curiosity only went so far when the being one was curious about was in fact an energon-thirsty mech who wanted to rip one's comrades limb from limb. Curiosity and younglings never was a good combination.

"Optimus!"

Ironhide quickly shushed the youngling and said, "We have to get Bumblebee as far away from Megatron as possible. He wants the youngling."

"Why?" asked Hound, glancing between the claws that speared through the door and the tiny bot cradled in the weapons specialist arms.

"I don't have time to explain," Ironhide snapped, "But we need to get him away from here and back to the battleship. The security systems should still be running at full power and at least eighteen mechs should still be onboard."

"I'm comin' wit' ya," declared Jazz. "An' we'll need Red Alert in order t'breech th' systems t' get onboard."

"I'll go too," offered Hound.

"Hoist and First Aid should still be onboard," said Perceptor, "So I think it would be best for me to stay behind and aid Optimus' unit."

"We'll stay behind as well," replied Inferno whilst pointing to Bluestreak and the two short-tempered mechs at the door, "There's a large number of base sentries heading this way from the eastern hangars, so they will be able to provide assistance should you run into some 'Cons."

BANG.

Bumblebee yelped when one of Megatron's lethal claws tore through the door and almost ripped it right off of its hinges, Sunstreaker and Blades cursing up a storm as they struggled to keep the psychotic mech out of the tower.

"Would you just…get your Pit-slagging…afts in gear," grunted Sunstreaker, "And get Bee outta here…so that I can fragging…pump this bitch's aft…fulla plasma!!!!"

"Watch your— "

"And I'm not…saying **_sorry_** for my…Pit-slaggin' dirty mouth!!!!!"

Bumblebee clicked quietly, imagining the pounding that Sunny was going to receive from Ironhide once this whole ordeal was over. The psychotic twin could get on Ironhide's bad side faster than anyone else on the entire battleship, or at times, the whole universe.

The Autobots split into their separate units: Ironhide's heading for the back exit of the tower and Inferno's staying behind to aid Optimus' unit outside. Not two astroseconds after Ironhide and his unit had left were the front doors torn from their hinges and thrown across the entrance chamber.

Megatron's mighty roar echoed throughout the towering halls…

Bumblebee curled into Ironhide's side and wrapped his small arms tightly around the mech's thick neck, quietly clicking into his guardian's receptors. Ironhide fired up his plasma cannons to full power, following Red Alert through the reddened hallways as the back-up lights flickered on-and-off. The sounds of loud explosions and ferocious shouts could be heard at their backs down the hallway.

"Optimus?" asked Bumblebee, his tiny hands playing with the wires at the back of Ironhide's neck.

"He's fine, Bee," reassured Ironhide whilst Red Alert led them down the stairwell and through the hallways towards the lower exit, "Nothing and no one can kill that glitchy pain in the af…" He trailed off as Jazz shot him a warning look and clicked his claw-like fingers at the older mech with gleeful revenge. "Skid plate…yes…pain in the skid plate."

Bumblebee giggled at his guardian's uncertain choice of words, deciding that he'd rather let the older mechs deal with the serious situation whilst he occupied himself with much more entertaining venues like making little obnoxious faces at Hound and watching the silvery figure that was moving in the shadows. The little bot couldn't figure out why the older mechs had not noticed the presence of the other being yet.

The being reached out of the shadows as Red Alert breeched the code on the exit and cautiously peeked out to make sure the coast was clear. The other Autobots were so focused on making sure that there were no Decepticons outside that they never noticed the big hand reaching for the youngling's tiny head until…

"Mirage!"

The youngling squealed in delight, thrilled to see another one of his playmates in good-health and physically intact amidst the bloodshed and chaos. Bumblebee reached for the familiar mech and eagerly scurried over his guardian's shoulder, leaping into the spy's unseen arms and giving Mirage a giant bear hug. Mirage grunted from the sudden impact and turned off his electro-disruptor, catching the little bot and easily scooping Bumblebee into his arms.

"Bumblebee!" yelled Ironhide, surprised by the youngling's sudden absence and the abrupt appearance of his invisible comrade, "Get back here, ya lil' microchip! This is **_not _**the time for glitchin' around!"

Bumblebee clicked and twittered angrily as he was handed back to his guardian, struggling against Ironhide's powerful arms in an attempt to leap back to the espionage agent. This little tantrum lasted for about five astroseconds until Ironhide finally snarled irritably and grabbed the little bot by his scruff-bar. The youngling curled into a tight little ball and stared at the furious weapons specialist with watery optics.

"Bring it on, microchip," growled Ironhide, his twin plasma cannons crackling and roaring with deadly promise as he held the youngling right in front of his faceplate, "We'll see who wins this time."

"Ironhide! Stop that!" yelled Hound. "You're scaring him!"

"Lil' bot needs to learn his place!" snarled Ironhide, his fierce temper getting the better of his processes. "He's going to— "

Bumblebee clicked quietly and stared at Ironhide with wide baby blue optics, his tiny frame curled into the tightest little ball he could manage whilst being held by his scruff-bar. The youngling knew that he was in trouble and that his titanic guardian was **_really _**mad at him right now. So, Bumblebee did the first thing that came to his young mind…

He kissed him.

The little bot closed the short distance between Ironhide's faceplate and his own, quickly kissing the rough-and-tumble-cannon-totting-and-planet-blowing-trigger-happy-and-ferociously-intimidating weapons specialist right on his noseplate before curling back into his tight little ball once again.

Silence.

"Hahahahaha!" laughed Jazz, "He _kissed_ ya! The great Ironhide 'as been **_kissed _**by a slaggin' younglin'! Owwww!!!"

"Watch your language," scolded Mirage.

Red Alert and Hound simply smiled at the little bot, the thick tension slowly ebbing away. Bumblebee clicked happily, reaching his little arms out to his guardian and chirping loudly, all anger and fear forgotten as the sound of explosions receded slightly from the upper hallways.

Although Bumblebee could speak Cybertronian and many other languages without a problem, it was common for many younglings his age to revert back to clicks and chirps when they were frightened, tired, stressed, or excited by the surrounding environment. Plus, Bumblebee had discovered long ago that the cute little clicks and chirps were an easy way to get what he wanted or to get out of trouble.

Most of the mechs onboard _Artemis I_ were suckers for the endearing little sounds that the youngling produced and were at his mercy whenever he employed them for his little explorations throughout the ship. Unfortunately, both Prowl and Ratchet seemed to be immune to them.

"Why do I even bother?" grumbled Ironhide, slinging the tiny minibot beneath his left arm once again and moving towards the exit. Bumblebee clicked happily and cuddled into his guardian's side once again, perfectly content to remain quiet and undisruptive this time though.

"The eastern hallways should be clear," said Mirage as they exited the tower, "The base's sentries already went through that section and I'm almost positive that the eastern hangar as been cleared. The ship had not been infiltrated when I left, so I doubt any of the 'Cons were able to get in after the base's alarms went off."

"How long do you think it'll take for us to get there?" questioned Hound as they came across a large, sealed doorway.

The spy and security director quickly conversed before stating, "Well, with the emergency seals and barricades, I'd say about…seven breems or so if we don't run into any 'Cons on the way."

Ironhide grunted in annoyance, his foul mood returning until he felt a little hand touch him lightly on the right side of his faceplate. He looked down into the droopy blue optics of his little charge, a wave of guilt rushing over him when he realized how rough he had gotten with Bumblebee. The poor little microchip was exhausted and achy, it was no wonder why he had thrown such a little fit.

"What's the matter, little one?" Ironhide asked, running his thick fingers down the little bot's tiny head and rubbing small circles around his receptors. "You okay?"

"I'm hungry," whispered Bumblebee, clicking contentedly at the relaxing feel of his guardian's gentle fingers beneath his receptors, "When're we gonna get home?"

The excitement and terror of the last joor was beginning to wear off, causing the full-effects of the orn to smash into the tired youngling like a freight train. Bumblebee wanted nothing more than to drink some fresh energon and curl up in Ironhide's warm arms for a long overdue recharge. His guardian's enormous cannons made excellent pillows, especially when they were slightly warmed up by the internal plasma flow.

And his beloved cuddly toy, Rufus, was always a reassuring comfort.

"In a short while, Bee," Ironhide replied whilst following his fellow Autobots into yet another lengthy hallway, "You just stay put and rest, okay?" Bumblebee clicked again and buried his little head into the warm crook of Ironhide's thick neck. "You've had quite the orn, little one."

The Autobots were nearing the eastern hangar when the sound of explosions and gunfire suddenly erupted down one of the outer hallways not too far from their location. Ironhide clutched Bumblebee close to his chassis, not wanting to lose him again like he had earlier that joor. The sickening fear that Megatron could have snatched the little bot away from them forever nearly made Ironhide expel whatever fluids were left within his tanks.

"Come on," encouraged Red Alert, "The hangar should be only two hallways over to the right after that sealed door down there."

"Primus, I'm stealin' Sunny's stash when this's over an'…" Jazz trailed off before glancing at the smoldering weapons specialist behind him. "Erase tha' from ya're memory banks an' pretend I never said anythin'."

"I don't think so," growled Ironhide, his hard blue optics flashing dangerously, "It would seem that I will have to speak with twins about their so-called stash if they wish to watch Bee again."

Jazz chuckled fretfully, realizing that the youngling had spent many orns in the twin's room with Sideswipe playing holo-games right next to Sunny's not-so-well hidden stash of high-grade. Bumblebee could have easily gotten a hold of the alcoholic fuels and made himself deathly ill by mistake.

Jazz already felt sorry for himself.

They were at the doorway to the eastern hangar and Red Alert was working on breeching the emergency that had been implemented by the base sentries. Ironhide was busy trying to keep Bumblebee awake, hoping to board the ship and get his youngling some fresh energon within the next few breems. Mirage, Jazz, and Hound were almost ready to—

CRASH.

The five Autobots were thrown through the recently opened hangar doorway, shoved by one another in their desperate attempts to avoid the wicked mace of none other than Megatron as he came crashing through one of the nearby doorways. The mechs groaned, but were relieved to discover that not one of them had been seriously injured by the mace nor the flying debris.

Ironhide quickly rose to his feet and launched countless missiles at the Decepticon Lord, shielding the crying youngling from his blood red optics. His fellow Autobots leapt in front of him, creating a protective barrier between the formidable Decepticon and the little youngling. Bumblebee gazed at the towering tyrant, his blue optics meeting with the other's own red ones.

"Hello, little one," purred the Decepticon Lord, "It's time to play."

Their afts were _**so**_ screwed.

* * *

I loved writing this chapter because of all the Bee cuteness, so I hope that you all liked it too. I didn't want to write too much about Mirage since his profile kinda confused me. Is he a nice guy or a snob? A little advice would be very much appreciated. 

Comment: To everyone that has read and enjoyed my stories, please read Sparks and Plasma by lady tecuma, which has many elements from my stories combined with many of her own wonderful ideas. I myself have found her writing to be very enjoyable and inventive, especially her Bumblebee parts, so I am sure that everyone reading my stories would also love to read this one of hers.


	6. Chapter VI : Optimus Prime

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank lady tecuma for writing such a wonderful story and utilizing my own ideas to their fullest throughout the entire tale. Her story Sparks & Plasma is one of the finest stories I have ever read on this site and I would simply like to thank her for writing a story equal to my own that I can read and enjoy without having to write it myself. I also give thanks to all of the other writers on this site that have taken their time to write in-depth stories that are both engaging, well-written, and original. You know who you are, my friends. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter VI - Optimus Prime

* * *

The sound of explosions and gunfire erupted throughout the massive hangar, huge clouds of neon blue sparks cascading off the towering silvers walls as the mechs attacked the ominous Decepticon Lord. Ironhide quickly ducked behind the other mechs, charging up his right plasma cannon and cradling Bumblebee to his broad chassis. He could faintly hear the youngling's quiet whimpers over the discharge of cannons, his aged spark burning with determination to protect his little charge. 

"Slaghead!" yelled Jazz, leaping in front of Ironhide and firing directly into the huge 'Con's faceplates. "Get those doors open, Red! We need back-up now!!"

"I'm working on it!!"

Hound deflected a brutal blow from Megatron's flail and provided Red Alert with the cover he needed to externally deactivate the emergency field that surrounded _Artemis I's_ lower entrance. The sound of sirens from deep within the titanic battleship could be heard on the outside, their blaring shrills echoing into the expansive hangar as familiar voices filtered onto the Autobot's com-links.

_What in the Pit's going on out there, Jazz?!_ questioned Streetwise, his deep voice somewhat distorted by static over the com-link. It appeared that the jamming signal was still running at almost full power. _It sounds like— _

_We got 'Cons down here, ya slagger!! _hollered Jazz whilst barely evading one of Megatron's deadly strikes and pulling himself up into the lower rafters that lined the walls of the hangar, _Get ya're Pit-slaggin' afts out 'ere **now**!!_

The towering room shook violently as Mirage was thrown off of Megatron's side and into a nearby wall, quickly picking himself up and narrowly dodging a shot from the massive mech's fusion cannon. Bumblebee whimpered in fear and curled into his guardian's side, his light blue optics wide as thundering footsteps and gunshots echoed throughout every corner of the hangar. His young spark pulsed with fright and recognition; subconsciously reaching out to this yawning darkness that felt so much like Optimus, yet completely different than the glowing aura of the older Autobot at the same time.

It confused the youngling.

Ironhide growled ferociously, glaring at the Decepticon Lord with hateful optics as he unleashed four missiles at him. Bumblebee was curled into a tight little ball, every inch of his tiny body covered by the massive mech's thick arm and crackling left cannon. Only a few astroseconds had passed since they had been ambushed by Megatron, but the short time felt more like five breems to the oldest Autobot. He gazed at the rear entrance with frustration…

They needed backup and they needed it **_now_**.

"Foolish Autobot scum," sneered Megatron, his blood red optics gazing at the little yellow feet that peeked out from behind Ironhide's hip joint, "You **_cannot_** hide him from me!!"

Ironhide simply glared and shielded the youngling from Megatron's optical sight, his right plasma cannon fixed on the threatening 'Con at all times. He would **_not _**allow the tyrant to touch Bumblebee. Never. The little bot was far too small and fragile to be handled by that horrible monster. Even the thought of those wicked claws touching the tiny yellow bot caused Ironhide's cannons to pulse with abject terror and grave ferocity.

He watched with apprehensive optics as the big 'Con effortlessly threw Jazz and Mirage to the side before nearly trampling over both Red Alert and Hound in his attempts to reach the yellow minibot. It was not long before every one of the Autobots were disabled by the fanatical Decepticon. Ironhide backed up against the entrance, his cannons roaring with deadly promise as Megatron growled viciously and walked towards—

BANG.

The double doors on the far left side of the hangar flew open and crashed into the surrounding walls, one massive dent mark creasing the center of their silver length whilst a towering figure stood in the doorway. Dark blue optics glowed in the reddened darkness and pierced into the blood red orbs of his brother, their ancient depths pulsing with untold anger and hateful wrath.

Optimus Prime.

"Get away from him, Megatron," rumbled the Autobot commander's deep baritone, his colossal frame blocking light from entering through the doorway.

Ironhide continued to sidle away from the Decepticon Lord, his unyielding grip on the quivering youngling tighter and more protective than ever before as he kept his deadly cannon trained on Megatron. The ominous sound of jet engines overhead caused the older weapons specialist to crouch low to the ground, his position defensive and uncomfortable. Ironhide hated playing defense in any battle, but there was no way that he could attack the Decepticon without potentially harming Bumblebee in the process. And the drowsy pants that were escaping the youngling's vents were not reassuring Ironhide in the least when it came to the yellow minibot's deteriorating physical condition.

"Prime," growled Megatron, his optics shifting to glower down at his older sibling, "I hope my Seekers didn't give you too much trouble, big brother, or is the great Optimus Prime developing rust around the joints."

"Megatron…"

The Autobot commander never got to finish his sentence because Megatron suddenly leapt towards Ironhide, his wicked claws seizing the older mech's cannon whilst the other reached around for the crying youngling. Crunching metal could be heard from above as four Seekers blasted their way through the thick ceiling of the hangar, their large frames dropping through the hole that Blackout had recently created at the weakest point. Megatron's claws were almost upon Bumblebee when—

"Pick on someone your own size, Megahead!!"

Thick black smoke billowed out of the lower reaches of the battleship's entrance, the large doors now opened for the Autobots onboard to come and help their wounded comrades. Familiar hands quickly snatched Bumblebee from his guardian's arms, finally allowing the weapons specialist to give the ruthless 'Con a piece of his mind. Bumblebee clicked quietly, curling himself into a tight little ball in Smokescreen's strong arms whilst the diversionary tactician made himself scarce and disappeared within his own masterful, smoky façade.

"I've got him, Hoist," whispered Smokescreen's voice, his com-link bleeping in reply as he listened carefully to the battle that was unfolding around him. Unfortunately, the shifty tactician failed to notice the looming figure that had appeared to his right side, his attention focused on the injured youngling that he held in his arms, "I'm coming in with— "

Smokescreen yelped in pain when his right side was viciously assaulted by a flail, his body thrown violently into one of the landing support beams of the battleship. Every joint in his body groaned with agony as he tried to pick himself up before being grabbed roughly around the throat. Smokescreen hissed in desperation as he suddenly felt the youngling being snatched from his arms, his dark blue optics gazing frantically at the Decepticon Lord.

"No!!" Smokescreen groaned, his hands desperately reaching for the tiny yellow bot, "Bumblebee!! You monster, let him— " A massive foot smashed down on his chassis and dug into his armor like it was no thicker than plain paper. "Bee…"

"Stop!! You're hurting him!! Stop it!!" cried Bumblebee, his little fists hitting the rough armored plating of his captor, "Please!! **_Stop!!_**"

The little bot continued to hit Megatron with his little fists before finally taking in a series of deep breaths through his vents. Bumblebee kicked at the huge 'Con one last time before releasing an extremely high-pitched scream that seemed to shake the entire planet. Every mech in the room, both Autobot and Decepticon alike, immediately stopped in mid-battle and pressed both hands over their auditory receptors. Bumblebee continued to scream for nearly a whole breem, his little body curled into a tight little ball and his tear-stained face scrunched into an irritated snarl.

Every Autobot with half a processor feared that angry little pout.

Bumblebee was sick and tired of all the fighting that was going on around him. He was utterly exhausted, tank-achingly hungry, and hurting all over his battered little frame. The young Autobot no longer cared about the heated conflict that existed between these two military factions. All Bumblebee knew or cared about at that moment in time was the fact that some strange mech was holding him in a less than comfortable position and he didn't like it _one **bit**_.

And if he had to scream his little vocal capacitor out, then so be it.

Smokescreen groaned and shoved his fingers into a thin opening between the two lower metal plates on Megatron's right leg, ruthlessly digging into the sensitive wires that were just below the 'Con's protective armor. Megatron roared in pain, his audio receptors aching from the youngling's never-ending tantrum and his leg almost collapsing beneath him from the Autobot tactician's clever attack on his unprotected pressure points. Every Autobot in the room turned towards the mighty roar, finally able to locate the youngling through the thick smoke screen.

Optimus felt his internal vents release super-heated air through their valves when he saw Bumblebee dangling precariously from Megatron's wicked claws, his tiny frame curled into a tight little ball only scarce few feet above Smokescreen's prone form. Every coil in the towering Autobot's frame seemed to twist with unprecedented rage, his pacifistic nature flying out the window at the sight before him.

The Autobot commander effortlessly pitched Starscream into a nearby pillar and violently charged into his slightly younger brother, cutting the youngling's high-pitched screams off after almost one whole breem of relentless soundwave torture. Bumblebee cried in terror, flying through the air and towards a threatening wall until…

"I've got ya, lil' buddy!!"

Bumblebee looked up into the familiar dark blue optics of Blades, his little body cradled lovingly within the street fighter's burly arms and protected by his heavily built frame. The violent Autobot's rotor blades spun at full speed and sliced through Ramjet's underside as he flew towards one of the many gaping holes that littered the walls. The feel of internal fuel spraying across his metal plating nearly intoxicating the ruthless Autobot.

He had been tailing Megatron for the past several breems and had arrived just when the little bot had been carelessly tossed into the air by the two wrestling commanders. Blades had been doing more youngling-saving than fighting in the past orn. Primus, what would his fellow Protectobots think of him now?

"We need to stop meetin' like this," Blades joked, quickly moving behind Hound and Prowl as they dispatched two more Seekers across the room, "Ya're gettin' too heavy for me to carry around, lil' buddy. My rusty ol' joints can't take much more of this."

Bumblebee clicked and twittered indignantly, his little fists repeatedly hitting his savior upon the chassis whilst the older mech cradled him much like a human mother or father would their young infant. Blades merely smirked, ignoring the little hands that kept hitting him and focusing on the Seeker that was roaring across the hangar towards him, his smaller rotor blades on his right hand charging up to full power.

What he didn't see was the Seeker that was approaching from behind him.

"Bring it on, punk," he snarled, clutching the youngling close to his chassis and shielding him almost completely from optical sight. He had no clue who this particular jet was, but Blades was going to make sure that he **_never_** saw him on the battlefield again.

Optimus met his adversary blow for blow, deflecting the beast-like Decepticon's flail with the thick armored-plating that lined his lower forearm. He had seen Blades grab the little bot out of the corner of his optics, greatly relieved to know that Bumblebee was with one of his most protective and battle-worthy Autobot caretakers. Unfortunately, the Autobot commander was horrified to see the speeding jet that was roaring towards his fellow warrior from behind. He turned back to his brother and…

"You fool!!" Optimus yelled, viciously shoving Megatron into a nearby support beam and sprinting towards Blades as the other mech sliced ruthlessly through the underside of the first incoming jet.

Optimus unsheathed his energon sword from his right forearm and knocked his fellow Autobot to the ground, turning to face the incoming jet with piercing blue optics. He jumped into the air, twisting his large frame so that when he landed he would not crash into the street fighter and youngling that laid beneath him. With one swift slice Optimus cut into the hard metal of the Decepticon jet, slashing straight down the side of the jet as it continued to rush by him.

The Decepticon jet flew for a couple of kilometers through one of the gaping holes that littered the towering silver walls, billowing flames erupting from the left side of the 'Con as it crashed into the hard ground outside. Optimus stood over the groaning Blades and twittering youngling, his mighty frame **_daring_** his brother and his followers to even try to touch his youngling again.

"Megatron…"

The Decepticon Lord glowered at his older brother, his blood red optics fixed on the tiny yellow bot that was nestled within the street fighter's arms. He reluctantly tore his optics away from the youngling to assess the damage that had been done to his troops, not at all pleased by the groaning Seekers that littered the smoke-hazed ground. The towering mech roared in rage, transforming alongside his fellow Decepticons and disappearing out of the gaping hole in the hangar's ceiling.

"Good to see ya, boss," groaned Blades, gazing up at his commander and allowing the youngling to gently roll out of his arms. "Didn't see tha' one coming. Oh, my back..."

Bumblebee slowly rolled into Optimus' right foot before uncurling from his tight little ball and promptly falling onto his little skidplate as dizziness overtook him. Disoriented clicks and chirrups came from the yellow minibot, his tiny head bobbing back-and-forth as he desperately tried to regain some semblance of balance over his aching frame.

"Come here, little one," cooed Optimus, reaching down and easily picking up the stumbling youngling from amidst his feet. "Look at you, already diving headlong into battle. What am I going to do with you?"

Bumblebee clicked and squealed happily, his tiny hands tracing over Optimus' battle mask with attentive fingers before snuggling into his chassis and seeking out his brilliantly glowing spark. Their fellow Autobots tended to the wounded whilst he held the tiredly clicking youngling, watching with relieved optics as Prowl and the others walked through the eastern doorway.

"Out of my way!!" rumbled the all-too-familiar voice of his CMO, Ratchet's gruff voice echoing throughout the expansive hangar as he rushed over to the youngling, "Hand him over."

Optimus did not dare argue with the short-tempered medic as he carefully handed Bumblebee over to Ratchet, reluctant to part with the youngling after almost losing him to Megatron. He could hear Bumblebee quietly clicking, his tiny frame supported by Ratchet and Blades as the CMO ran numerous internal and external scans. Everything seemed to be fine until Optimus heard Bumblebee release a painfully loud squeak as he went over to help a battered and dizzy Hound.

"Bumblebee?" inquired Optimus, turning around to see what was the matter with the youngling, "Bumblebee?!"

What he saw terrified him.

Bright blue energon appeared to stream down Bumblebee's left arm, completely covering the yellow paint of his left side in the light blue liquid. The pain-filled cries that emitted from the youngling caused Optimus' spark to pound in his chest, blue optics wide as he heard his CMO shout for his fellow medics to hurry up and get their afts over here. Bumblebee looked like he was about to go off-line any astrosecond, his baby blue optics beginning to dim and fade into darkness.

"First Aid?!" shouted Ratchet, frantically looking around the room as the tiny bot in his arms suddenly went off-line from severe energon deprivation. "Get your aft over here!!"

"Bumblebee? Bumblebee?!" demanded Optimus, his own optics widening as he gazed at the darkened optics of the youngling.

The assistant medic ran over with Jazz and Jetfire at his side, Ratchet still shouting, "Get your slaggin' aft onboard and prepare the 'bay for surgery. You three," he said, pointing to Optimus and the other two Autobots, "We're low on fuel. I'll need to extract whatever energon I can from you!! Move!!"

Optimus gazed at the youngling, his little body limp and unmoving in Ratchet's arms as the Autobot commander signaled for the other mechs to secure the surrounding sectors. None of them argued, their optics fixed on the yellow minibot that was cradled against the chassis of the surgeon. Bumblebee simply laid there, unresponsive to the world around him. Optimus felt energon rise in his tanks and...

The sight absolutely terrified him.

_Hold on, little one_, thought Optimus, quickly following the surgeon and his fellow Autobots into the belly of the battleship. Never before had the great Optimus Prime been as frightened as he was at that moment in time. _Please..._

_I can't live without you._

* * *

Yay!! Another chapter!! Sorry that this took so long, I simply wanted to finish _Little Brother_ before really starting to write this story. And I must say that I am not completely happy with this chapter, but that is probably because there is so much action in it that Bumblebee is completely overshadowed. I promise that the next chapter will have more Bumblebee in it. Thank you for reading and I hope that this chapter will satisfy you all!! 


	7. Chapter VII : Ratchet

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank MoonstarWorld for all of the wonderful ideas s/he has spent valuable time writing and sending to me over the past few months. Much of my inspiration has come from these little tid-bits of thought, knocking me out of whatever writer's block I have been cursed with during these grueling weeks of schoolwork. So, I would simply like to give s/he a special thank you for taking the time to write these little ideas.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter VII - Ratchet

* * *

The thick silver doors of _Artemis I's_ medical bay towered high above the heads of most of the mechs onboard, their intimidating height making the Autobots that stood outside even more anxious than they were already feeling about the dire situation. Everything around them was gray and silver, a stark contrast to the little creature who they were awaiting news on. None of them dared to knock on the doors, fearing the various sharp objects that the battleship's CMO would throw at the nearest mech if he was interrupted without proper explanation. 

"Where is he?!" demanded Ironhide's rumbling baritone, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. "Where _**is**_ he?!"

The hulking black frame of the weapons specialist soon appeared from around the corner, two of Ironhide's fellow Autobots struggling to keep him from charging down the corridor and viciously breaking down the medbay doors. Not one of them wanted to face the Hatchet after a surgery such as this. But, then again, none of them wanted to get in between Ironhide and his precious little charge either.

"You have to calm down, 'Hide," advised Streetwise, both Warpath and himself heroically trying to restrain the frenzied Autobot before he did something too drastic to the other mechs around him. Unfortunately, all their thoughtful actions earned them was a series of vicious dents and broken facial gears.

"My aft..." grumbled Warpath.

"That's gonna leave a mark…" wheezed Streetwise, his chassis dented from the impact of being thrown into a thick wall. "Cranky ol' lugnut."

Ironhide had a horrible temper.

The massive Autobot glared at his comrades, his dark blue optics piercing through the cowering mechs, daring them to even _**attempt**_ to stop him from breaking down those twin doors and attending to his youngling. He was like a mother bear protecting her newly born cubs. If anyone dared cause his little youngling harm, Ironhide could promise that Death would soon come and take them from this forsaken world.

"Where is— "

The short-tempered mech never got the chance to finish his sentence because he was soon dragged into the medbay by a pair of rough hands. Ironhide was then whirled around as the doors slammed closed behind him, his body staggering for a few moments as he tried to keep up with the mech that was pulling him. It wasn't more than an astrosecond before Ironhide's own blue optics met the tired ones of the battleship's resident absent-minded inventor.

"Mute it," rumbled Wheeljack, his usually friendly voice taking on a brusque tone as he dragged his larger comrade across the room and hastily shoved him onto a medical table, "We need more energon and we need it _**now**_."

Ironhide could faintly hear the familiar voices of Optimus, Jetfire, and Jazz behind one of the many thin walls that separated the various operating rooms on the battleship. It was common knowledge that the medbay was Ratchet's territory and any intruding mech had to fear for their aft if they ever dared to bother the Hatchet during his functioning joors.

The twins and the youngling were the exception, of course.

"Take all you need," said Ironhide, one of his titanic arms held out impatiently for the energon extraction whilst his dark optics scanned the 'bay for his youngling. "I don't care how much it takes," he growled, locking optics with Wheeljack and signaling for the inventor to take more as the cubes started to fill with bright blue liquid.

"I can only take so— "

Wheeljack never got to finish his sentence, his voice capacitor being cut off as the frenzied weapons specialist seized him by his throat and gazed at him with glowering optics, his deep baritone growling, _**"Save him."**_ The inventor merely nodded, plucking his comrade from his front and hastily returning to the energon extraction as Ratchet's booming voice echoed into the room.

"Where's that energon, 'Jack!"

"Working on it!" yelled Wheeljack, his optics locked on the bright blue liquid that poured into the cubes whilst sterilizing another set of medical equipment. "Come on, you fragging slaghead," he cursed whilst attempting to organize the tools too fast, resulting in a mess of little solder torches and bleeping scanners all over the silver floors. "Don't you dare move or I'll…"

Ironhide watched as his old friend bustled about the medbay at record speeds, his optics and movements more precise than the weapons specialist had ever seen before in his long life. Ratchet yelled orders out to the other mechs, commanding them to retrieve specific equipment and tools for him. Only certain instruments could be used on a mech as small and young as Bumblebee, especially since the youngling had yet to receive little more than the absolute minimum amount of external advancements.

Primus, he still scarcely came up to Optimus's lower knee joint!

Then again, most of the Autobots did not complain about Bumblebee's tiny size since it made him easily portable for the older mechs who were stuck carrying the little bout around the ship. Poor Bumblebee had to run to keep up with most of the Autobots' long strides, thoroughly tiring the youngling out within a few short breems. It was quite the comical sight, or at leastm it was until Bumblebee finally decided to plop down onto his little skidplate and scream at the top of voice capacitor. Once that happened, the only way to pacify the little bot was to pick him up and carry him around for the rest of the orn.

Thankfully, temper tantrums were quite tiring for even the most hyperactive and stubborn of younglings and Bumblebee rarely lasted very long after one of his infamous screaming fits. Unfortunately, neither did their auditory receptors. Ratchet treated more cases of blown receptors than any other medical condition. The surgeon often joked that it was his becoming specialty and that he had installed himself with the most effective auditory system this side of the galaxy.

"Get your Pit-slagging aft in here _**now**_, Wheeljack!!"

Wheeljack quickly picked up the tools and removed the transfusion tube from his comrade's lower right secondary energon line, forcing the wobbly Ironhide down onto the table whilst grabbing the blue-filled cubes with his other hand. He sprinted into the other room and hooked up the transfusion tubes to the youngling's lower energon line, his hand briefly grazing over the cool metal of Bumblebee's small frame.

"I need more internal wire converters," Ratchet hissed, his hands buried in the tiny nooks and crannies that made up the youngling's fragile outer armor, "And hook up every Pit-fragging cube, Wheeljack!! His spark's fading!!"

The terror-filled inventor's deft hands worked faster than they ever had before, his quick fingers connecting the little bot to the precious energy that would hopefully save his young life. Every faint beep that Wheeljack heard on the spark monitor caused his own to pulse with fright that almost seemed to suffocate him. This little, lovable creature that lay dying beneath his fingertips was his life force, his source of comfort and acceptance when everything crumbled down around him.

Life without the youngling seemed impossible to fathom, a deep sadness clawing at the mech's spark every time he thought of such a life-altering possibility. The little bot had not been online for but a few vorns and already he had every mech onboard the ship at his beck and call, his endearing personality wriggling into the spark of even the most thick-framed of the Autobot warriors.

"Secure his spark," ordered Ratchet whilst soldering the tiny bot's injured arm. It did not take the surgeon long to repair Perceptor's hasty solder, his skillful hands moving over the wound without hesitation as Wheeljack connected numerous wires to the small mech's spark casing.

Hoist sorted through the various tools that Wheeljack had laid upon a nearby table whilst connecting another transfusion tube to the youngling. The good doctor could feel every atom in his structure shaking with nervousness as he worked on Bumblebee's little frame, his past experience with youngling's resurfacing as he instructed his fellow medics on the diminutive anatomy before them.

"Come on, little one," Ratchet encouraged, his own spark pulsating at the feel of his young patient's quickly fading life energy, "You've got to fight."

The surgeon could feel the life quickly fading beneath his fingertips, every astrosecond that passed without Bumblebee regaining consciousness was simply another step closer to the ominous gates of the Matrix. Every breath that left Bumblebee's vents was a welcomed blessing to the older Autobot. The little bot was too far young to die and Ratchet simply refused to let Primus have the youngling this soon after his creation.

_I'm **not** going to let You have him_, Ratchet thought whilst securing the outer wires of the youngling's spark casing, _No way in the Pit will I let You take him from me. _

"He's fading, Ratchet!!"

The Autobot surgeon was too preoccupied to notice the four wobbly-legged mechs that had barged into the operating room without permission, his frantic optics fixed on the dying youngling before him. Every one of their dark blue optics locked onto Bumblebee, their frames seizing up as they watched the medic desperately attempt to save the lifeless youngling.

"Bumblebee…"

Optimus raced over to the operating table and caressed the little bot's tiny head, a deep fear tearing at his spark as he listened to his old friend's frustrated curses and frantic actions. His brilliant spark reached out to the faint pulse that Bumblebee's now possessed and fiercely grasped the fading aura with a powerful tug whilst caressing it through their spark-bond.

"Fight for me! **_Fight!!"_**

The other Autobots watched in awe as bright blue particles flowed from the medic and into the young bot's spark, the brilliant light almost blinding the others in the room as Ratchet continued to shout an unintelligible string of words. It wasn't long before the bright light suddenly dissipated and left behind an eerie silence. Optimus quickly spotted his old friend on the floor, leaning heavily against one of the silver legs of the operating table.

"Ratchet, are you alright?" Optimus questioned, leaning down to place a soothing hand upon the surgeon's quivering shoulder.

"I am…fine," answered Ratchet, his usually clear voice obscured by the rapid intakes of air that his coolant systems and vents were fighting to take in, "Just…give me…a few moments… and I will be…alright..." A tense silence hung in the air until Ratchet finally gathered the energy to speak again, "How is…Bumblebee?"

Every optic in the room turned to the unconscious youngling whilst Hoist gently examined the little bot's spark before quietly breathing, "His spark pulse has returned to near normal levels of EPM."

"Are you sure?" questioned Optimus.

The doctor quickly double-checked the readings and scanned the amount of new energon that had entered Bumblebee's systems before saying, "The readings are the same as before…" Hoist ran a tentative hand along the youngling's spark casing, whispering in a quiet voice, "He's perfectly stable."

The sound of chuckling echoed off the high walls and drew the mechs' attention to Ratchet once again as he murmured, "Seems like I've…still got a few tricks…up my side paneling." An exhausted expression overcame his faceplates and he leaned heavily against the table whilst reaching a hand up to touch the youngling, "I never thought that it…would work..."

"You fool," growled Jetfire, his blue optics widening with disbelief as he stared at the grinning Ratchet and the thin wires dangling off the side of the table, "You connected your spark casing to Bee's and transferred energy!! You could have overloaded your CPU **_and_** fragmented your spark!! Slaghead!!"

"It was worth it."

Ratchet forced himself to his feet and ran tender fingers down Bumblebee's tiny arm panels whilst the other mechs shared questioning and weary glances with each other as Jetfire continued to glare at the surgeon. The scientist thought it was wise to keep his opinion to himself since he would not be able to rebuke any arguments considering Jetfire himself would have probably done the same thing had he been in Ratchet's position. Every mech in the room would have gladly given their own life to save Bumblebee's young one.

Despite his stubborn and hard exterior, Ratchet deeply loved the youngling and had been entirely willing to sacrifice himself without a second thought if it meant that the little bot would have a chance to live. Bumblebee was a bright light in his often sorrow-filled and frustrating life as the chief medical officer of the Autobots. Ratchet saw more death than any mech ever should, but the glowing presence of the little youngling often counteracted those cold feelings and allowed the surgeon to experience a deep warmth that he had not felt in hundreds of vorns.

Bumblebee glowed with love and innocence, a combination that not even the thick-armored Ratchet could ignore for long. And it wasn't like the older mech wanted too either. How could one deny such a carefree and innocent little creature?

"Come on," rumbled Jetfire, grasping the surgeon by his arm and dragging him towards another operating table, "Sit down before you collapse, you slaghead." He saw Wheeljack and Hoist surround Bumblebee, still fretting over the unconscious youngling and continuing to repair the damage that still littered his small frame. "I cannot believe that you _dared_ to transfer your spark energy," he continued whilst running scans of the surgeon's energy levels. "Of all the foolish, Pit-slagging things to do…"

Ratchet simply leveled the scientist with a hard stare, his dark blue optics boring into Jetfire's very spark as he scanned the CMO's internal systems. "Do not play the fool, 'Fire. You know as well as I...that you would have done the same thing...if you were in my position."

"I would have— "

"Do not deny it, Jetfire," wheezed Ratchet when the scientist checked his coolant systems and external vents, "Every mech in this room...would have done it had they...simply known **_how_**." They both looked at one another, Jetfire feeling like a little youngling who had just been caught in the high-grade cabinet whilst Ratchet remained his ever-composed self. "And I would gladly...do it _**again**_."

The two Autobots glanced at the unconscious youngling, both of them feeling a turbulent rush of emotions at the sight of the soldered energon line and darkened optics. Neither was willing to admit just how close they had come to losing Bumblebee, every thought related to such a horrible occurrence being banished from their processors as soon as it appeared. Such thoughts were not important now that they knew that the youngling would live to see another orn without the threat of death.

"Logic does not always have to rule the processor," whispered Ratchet, his optics fixed on Bumblebee as the others gathered around him and examined his little frame with anxious expressions. "Remember that, my friend."

The sound of laughter echoed from the other side of the room as the mechs stared at Bumblebee's brightly pulsing spark, relief and amazement clear on their faceplates. It was the first piece of good news any of them had received in the past orn and they eagerly welcomed it with open arms.

Jetfire simply stared ahead, his processor whirring with turbulent thoughts.

* * *

My goodness, I am _**so **_sorry for how long it has taken to update. I am absolutely bombarded with homework and have sports, work, and babysitting on top of it. But I promise that the other chapters will probably be quicker to come since they will not focus so much on battles and action. Lots more Bumblebee to come though. And more Jetfire as well. I find his personality to be fascinating for some reason. I was not exactly thrilled with this chapter for some reason, I guess it is probably because it's so techinal and Bumblebee seems to be overshadowed by all the action and drama. Hmm. Well, I hope you all like it and that it lives up to your expectations!! 

And I am hoping to include the Dinobots, or maybe even Omega Supreme at some distant point, in one of my stories, so any suggestions would be most welcomed and appreciated. Thank you!!


	8. Chapter VIII : Prowl

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that has taken time to read and review my stories. I am amazed that so many people enjoy reading them, I really never expected them to be this big of a hit with the more platonic-relationship theme. I admit, I'm not a huge fan of writing romance and I highly doubt that I ever will write a romantic story. So you as the reader can expect to only read stories that are similar to the ones I have already written from me.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter VIII - Prowl

* * *

The towering halls of the Autobot flagship _Artemis I_ were eerily silent as the night shift went about their normal routine despite the events of the last orn. Ominous shadows stretched down the dimly lit corridors, the quiet clank and clatter of tools ringing faintly in the far distance as the ship's technicians worked tirelessly on the numerous repairs that loomed over them. Every mech onboard the battleship was working their hardest in order to finish the countless jobs they had been assigned, the desire to pursue the Decepticons pulsing through their systems. 

Unfortunately, Optimus Prime refused to permit his bloodthirsty troops with such a marked privilege. Their constant pleas and livid tirades did not dissuade the omnipotent mech from his firm stance, his word remaining law upon the battleship and all other areas under Autobot control. And he simply **_refused_** to leave the youngling behind again.

No vendetta was worth endangering his little youngling.

"Bumblebee," cooed Optimus, his thick fingers poking at the sensitive wires and auditory receptors on the youngling's tiny head, "It's time to wake up, little one."

The youngling simply clicked in reply and snuggled even further into the towering mech's chassis, his internal systems revving softly in contentment as Optimus' brilliantly glowing spark reached out to his own younger one and soothed the dreadful pain that had been left behind from the spark-fading and the energon deprivation. Poor Bumblebee had been utterly exhausted during the following orns, his small frame aching from the severe battering that it had taken throughout the Decepticon assault.

"Two can play at this game," murmured Optimus, gently lifting the tiny bot closer to his upper chassis and positioning him in front of his surface vents, "You asked for this, little one…"

Bumblebee shifted restlessly in the older mech's arms, the cool stream of air that was blowing over his sensitive wires causing him to fall into a fit of giggles and squeals as deft fingers tickled his side panels. Optimus remained careful of where he touched the tiny youngling, mindful of the tender wounds and solders that marred Bumblebee's small frame.

"Stop…no fair…tickles," giggled Bumblebee, his tiny frame squirming in the big mech's arms as Optimus moved his tickling fingers onto Bumblebee's sensitive neck and shoulder wires, "Stop it!"

"Is that a cyberfly I hear?" pondered Optimus, a devious smirk stretching across his mouthplates as the youngling continued to squeal and click in his arms. "Or perhaps it's nothing more than the wind, I must be hearing things in my old age. Ratchet would know the answer to such a problem, wouldn't he?"

Bumblebee did not have enough air in his systems to answer, his entire attention being solely focused on escaping the deft fingers that were attacking his overly sensitive first-frame wires. His tiny arms and legs smacked against Optimus' chassis, his processor too focused on escape to notice the sudden change of scenery. As far as Bumblebee knew, they were still standing in his and Ironhide's dormitory.

"Ratchet!" called Optimus, entering the medbay with the squealing and giggling youngling underneath his left arm. The brusque surgeon quickly appeared from one of the side rooms, his optics scanning the 'bay for any sign of an injured mech. "I do believe it is time for Bumblebee's joorly check-up, don't you?"

The surgeon smirked, skillfully plucking the tiny minibot from Optimus' arms and placing him upon an examination table in the back of the 'bay. Bumblebee released noisy twitters and squeals, his indignation at being tricked into an examination ringed loud and clear as he kicked and clicked upon the table.

"Bumblebee," sighed Ratchet, momentarily stunned by the little hand that swatted him across his faceplates and then kicked him in the side, "Don't make this harder than it has to be, little one."

Bumblebee simply squealed even louder, his blue optics narrowing as he grabbed a nearby scanner and chucked it at the much bigger mech. The youngling wasted no time in jumping from the tabletop and running between the stunned mechs' legs, Ratchet busy nursing a dented noseplate whilst Optimus tried desperately not to step on the youngling as he made a break for the doorway.

However, the sound of Bumblebee's little tantrum soon drew the attention of ten other Autobot mechs who were walking down the medbay hallway just as the tiny yellow minibot dashed through the doorway. Bumblebee barely got more than a few feet before he was snatched up by a pair of strong hands and even burlier arms, his little legs kicking uselessly in the air as he twittered and hissed like a feral cybercat. There was no way that he was going to allow Ratchet to stick those sharp needles and tubes into him again. And if he had to kick and scream and twitter until Omega Supreme himself had to intervene, then by Primus, he would throw a tantrum to end all tantrums.

Unfortunately, his current captor remained both unmoved and undaunted. Prowl was always a hard mech to crack when it came to tantrums, but Bumblebee wouldn't give up. There was no way in the Pit that he was going to get pricked by those gigantic needles again.

"Whoa, lil' bot's going all out this time, eh?" joked Sideswipe whilst gazing at the screeching youngling. "They must've been bringin' out the big needles."

The Autobot commander and chief medical officer emerged from the 'bay within a few astroseconds, both locking optics on the squirming youngling. Optimus gazed at his second-in-command with thankful optics, still amazed by the stoic mech's ability to catch the tiny youngling without fear of accidentally hurting him.

"Your behavior is irrational, little one," said Prowl, gently grabbing the youngling by his scruff-bar and cradling him in the crook of his left arm, "You are recovering from a traumatic experience and must be examined regularly for malfunctions." Every word that left Prowl's vocal capacitor was answered by a loud screech from the minibot, his optics blazing in fury as Prowl held firm. "Acting like a spoilt sparkling will do you no good in the long run."

Bumblebee's screeching reached an all-time high when Prowl finished those last few words, his tiny frame writhing despite Prowl's firm hold on his scruff-bar. The large mech simply stood his ground and waited for the tantrum to fizzle away, his familiarity with such outbursts allowing him to remain cool and collected throughout the ordeal. He was a master at dealing with youngling temper tantrums and fritz fits.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for some of his fellow Autobots.

The base's sentries stared at the screeching youngling with wary optics, none of them eager to get too close to Bumblebee for fear of their own safety. It had been many, many vorns since any of them had seen a youngling, and this one was so tiny that they wouldn't have been surprised if one of his little arms broke when they touched him. Not one of them wanted to take that kind of chance though.

The mechs aboard _Artemis I_ were fiercely protective of the little bundle of yellow wires and none of the sentries wanted to end up as scrap metal any time soon. Those nasty warrior twins had given the whole base quite the overload when they had attacked another mech for calling the youngling a sparkless drone. The big yellow twin seemed especially hostile towards anyone that so much as looked at the youngling the wrong way, his burly figure towering over the minibot at that very moment.

"Aww, look at that cranky little face," said Sunstreaker, leaning forward to smirk at the scrunched-up features and watery blue optics that gazed up at him, "Reminds me o' the time when Sides an' I hit this— "

SMACK.

"Owww!!! Ya little slagger, what was that for?!?!"

Bumblebee unleashed a series of particularly vulgar sounding clicks and squeaks that had the other mechs staring in shock at the tiny minibot. Obviously, the little bot was not as sheltered as they had once thought, his usage of vocabulary confirming this as he continued to twitter violently and swear profusely in Prowl's unyielding arms. Optimus looked aghast, Ratchet appeared to be stunned, Sideswipe was almost bursting with pride, Sunsteaker looked downright livid, and the others didn't seem to know what to make of this tiny swearing-machine.

"Where in the seven galaxies did he learn that?!?!" shrieked Optimus in horror.

"I can give you one guess," drawled Ratchet, his gaze slowly shifting over to the infamous twin swearologists of the Autobot ranks. "Doesn't take a mechanical surgeon to figure that one out, Prime."

Click! Click! Click! Click!

"That's it!! Now it's war!! I'm gonna blast ya— "

Sideswipe grabbed his yellow twin from behind the moment the youngling kicked his short-tempered brother directly in the faceplates again, this time leaving a medium-sized dent on the warrior mech's noseplate. Sunstreaker's colorful words were answered by Bumblebee's own high-pitch screams, his tiny frame curling into a tight little ball as the psychopathic twin was restrained by his comrades.

"Sunstreaker!" roared Optimus, mercilessly grabbing the mech's neck armor and dragging him towards Ratchet and himself, "Watch your language!"

"The lil' runt _**kicked**_ me in the _**face!"**_ wailed Sunstreaker whilst poking at the dent on his noseplate as if it were a horrible mortal wound. "Do ya have **_any_** idea how much a decent cube o' facial wax **_costs_** these orns?! **_Fifty_** credits!! That's what it costs!! _**Fifty**_ Pit-slaggin' credits!!"

_**"AAAHHHHHHH!!!!"**_

"Now look what ya've done!!" yelled Sideswipe, punching his twin brother in the head and knocking him into a close by wall. "Ya jus' _**can't**_ keep ya're glitchin' capacitor muted for _**one**_ breem, can ya?!"

_**"Slag-head!!!"**_ roared Sunstreaker, his bright blue optics darkening and becoming interlaced with blood red flecks, "I'm gonna turn ya into scrap-metal!!"

The towering twins collided with one another like plasma rockets, clawing at the other's face as they tumbled to the ground in a heap of red and yellow paint. Optimus and Ratchet both shouted in frustration, instantly leaping forward in a desperate attempt to pry the two violent brothers apart.

"Incompetent fools," grumbled Prowl, hefting the shrieking youngling higher into his arms and walking down the hallway whilst ignoring Ratchet's protests to the fact that he still had to examine the minibot. He waved his fellow Autobots away as he made his way to the battleship's command center, listening with quiet satisfaction as Bumblebee's high-pitched cries soon dissolved into soft hiccups and short clicks.

Prowl punched in the code to the bridge and entered without incidence, striding over to his broad computer terminal and gently setting the youngling onto a small seat that Wheeljack had designed on the right side of the workstation. Bumblebee stared at Prowl with watery optics, his tiny frame curling into a fetal position on the fluffy yellow seat as the tactician started to look over a series of weapons statistics and ammunition supplies lists.

* * *

_A few breems later…_

Bumblebee clicked quietly in his fluffy little seat, pensively watching as Prowl went about his normal routine and read over hundreds of data chips within a few short breems. The quiet revving of the tactician's internal systems soothed the youngling and made him feel safe and secure in the complex command center. No one entered the room and nor did anyone bother Prowl as he sifted through endless amounts of data. If he was willing to do the monotonous tasks onboard, then Primus curse any mech stupid enough to wish for such a repetitive duty.

The cool air of the massive room soon began to melt into Bumblebee's sensitive wires, causing his tiny frame to shiver from the unpleasant cold that the battleship always had its internal thermostats set at throughout the nighttime joors. Bumblebee could not handle sudden temperature changes like the older Autobots could, and it was because of this reason that he was so often carried around by and constantly cuddled up to the bigger bots. They were the ideal sources of heat for the youngling and none of them dared to turn the tiny bot away whenever a cold chill set into the hallways of the ship.

As quietly and slowly as possible, Bumblebee scooted across the smooth desktop of the terminal and snuggled himself into Prowl's lap before the older mech could even muster a word of protest towards him. Bumblebee clicked in contentment, burrowing into the tactician's warm chest and curling into a tight little ball once again. The stoic Autobot simply released a long-suffering sigh and continued on with his work, directly heating the coolant in his systems by a few degrees in an instinctive attempt to warm up the chilly youngling.

"I'm hungry," whispered Bumblebee, gazing up at the tactician was an expectant and endearing expression that he had perfected many vorns ago. Not even the great Prowl could withstand this adorable look when such stirring words were strung together to form a sentence that any loving caretaker would instinctively respond to. And Prowl considered himself to be a respectable caretaker.

Prowl released another sigh and shifted Bumblebee into a sitting position on his lap, reaching into a cabinet on the side of his desk and pulling out a cube of bright blue energon. "Coronite flavored," said Prowl, handing the gleeful youngling the cube of his favorite flavored fuel.

Bumblebee wasted no time in gulping down the sweetened fuel, taking advantage of this opportunity since Ironhide rarely allowed him to drink high-energized energon on normal nights. The last thing the grumpy weapons specialist wanted to deal with was an over-energized youngling. He preferred to reserve that kind of spiteful torture for special occasions, such as the twins' and Jazz's creation anniversaries.

The sound of hissing doors caused Prowl's auditory receptors to swivel, his head promptly turning to gaze at the two figures that stood in the doorway to the bridge, their dark blue optics staring discreetly at the yellow bundle of wires sitting in his lap. He did not want to disturb the happily drinking youngling, so Prowl merely flashed his optics at Optimus and Ratchet in a signal for them to leave.

The two mechs nodded their heads in understanding, albeit neither seemed to be too keen on leaving the youngling until he had a full examination. The tactician texted his fellow Autobot and reassured the overprotective medic, telling him that he would have the youngling down to the medbay within the joor to be thoroughly scanned and examined. After all, they couldn't have their youngling getting sick, now could they?

"All done?" asked Prowl, softly plucking the empty cube from the youngling's tiny hands and then repositioning the tiny bot in his lap.

"Yep," chirruped Bumblebee, quickly snatching a game-chip from the desktop to the left and becoming engrossed in the brightly colored fantasy world.

Prowl revved his internal systems, leaning further into his seat and allowing the little bot to use his broad thighs panels as pillows to cuddle into as he continued to read over the recruitment quota charts. The youngling had no problem using any of the older mechs as pillows, no thinking twice about falling into recharge atop even the most petulant of Autobots.

Not even Sunstreaker or Dogfight were immune to the sleeping Bumblebee.

And as predicted, it wasn't long before Bumblebee was deep in recharge, his game-chip lying forgotten on the floor as Prowl typed with one hand and rubbed soft circles on the youngling's head with the other. This was a routine that the tactician had become accustomed to many vorns ago, Bumblebee's stubborn persistance towards following Prowl around slowly revealing a side of the aloof and taciturn mech that none of his fellow Autobots had ever thought he possessed, let alone acknowledged in any way whatsoever.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The Autobot second-in-command smirked at the tiny bot, instinctively tightening his hold on Bumblebee as the youngling shifted in his sleep before finally curling around the older mech and burrowing even further into his warm lap. Prowl felt his spark flutter with an affection that most thought him not capable of, deeming the seemingly emotionless mech as sparkless and drone-like. But if only they knew of the inherent love that he felt for the tiny youngling.

_Younglings do the strangest things to a bot,_ thought Prowl whilst running his thick fingers down the tiny bot's faceplates, _But **never** would I trade him for anything in the universe.

* * *

_

I am yet again SO sorry that it took me so long to update. I have been overloaded with homework & kickboxing is exhausting me beyond all reason. I feel like I'm about to go insane right now. But aside from that, everything else had been going well & I shall try to update on a more regular basis from now on. This is kinda a transition chapter & I don't think it is all that good. But for those of you that like Prowl, this chapter's for you. But I still don't like it. I should probably re-do it.

And for everyone out there that has liked my stories, please read Night Fire by Litahatchee. It is an excellently written & absolutely hilarious portrayal of the relationship between Ironhide & Chromia, with some future hints of Bumblebee meshed around in there. I have found it to be a very enjoyable story so far & I recommend it to anyone that has enjoyed reading my stories. So go read it!!


	9. Chapter IX : Raindance

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter, I've just been so busy lately and those little comments that everyone is so kind to make just makes me feel better about the chapters that I throw together so quickly. And this chapter is longer, for everyone out there that requested longer chapters. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter IX - Raindance

* * *

The towering halls of the Autobot battleship _Artemis I_ were brightly lit as the light of the neighboring sun poured through the wide bay windows that lined the walls. Titanic mechs patrolled the hallways as others prepared for the orientation of the recently arrived Autobot troops from the Vector Sigma Military Base. A dozen orns had passed since the attack at Beta Nebulae and Optimus Prime's request for more troops had been answered promptly by his old friend and comrade, Ultra Magnus.

"Twenty?!" exclaimed Red Alert, amazed by the list that he was staring at, blown away by the number of soldiers that Ultra Magnus had actually managed to conjure up for them. "He can spare _**this**_ many mechs?"

"Apparently," replied Inferno, overseeing the preparations that his fellow mechs were making to the largest of _Artemis I's _seminar rooms. "I guess Prime asked the same question and Magnus told him that he has plenty of mechs at the moment, or he at least has enough to spare this coming batch of soldiers."

"Lets jus' hope that they can tell the difference between a plasma cannon and a missile launcher," commented Brawn as he set up an extra-large chair, "Ironhide'll blow a circuit if he 'as to teach any of them how to shoot like last time."

"Pit-slaggin' glitches better— "

"Watch your capacitor, Blades," snapped Raindance from a nearby table, his arms covered in bright orange and green paint as he entertained the youngling with his amazing artistic skills, "The little bot already has a wide vocabulary as it is and the _last _thing any of us need is for him to insult one of the new mechs."

Bumblebee squealed in delight, oblivious to the tense conversation that was taking place around him as he painted intricate designs on the video correspondent's chassis and side panels. Raindance simply took the youngling's painting in stride and smoothly batted the little bot's paint-covered hands away before finally giving up a few moments later. He was already a walking canvas, so what was a few more smudges gonna do?

Finger paints and younglings were a bad combination.

"It's not like they'll be able to do anythin' to 'im," retorted Blades, reaching over to flick the youngling on the head as he continued to rub paint all over his caretaker, "He 'as an entire ship o' Autobots at 'is beck an' call."

Bumblebee clicked at the burly street fighter, his optics narrowing as the big mech stepped closer and gazed down at his work of 'art'. The youngling had drawn a number of crude shapes all over a piece of scrap metal, the colorful blobs appeared to be the tiny bot and his larger caretakers standing in the rec room of the ship. Blades could see himself on the far side of the picture with what appeared to be Brawn and Streetwise on either side of him.

"That's stunnin', Bee," praised Blades, watching as the tiny youngling continued to spread blobs of paint all over the scrap metal before making his way onto Raindance's arms and chassis once again. "Who's this?"

Bumblebee glanced up from his work and scrutinized the black blob, "'Hide."

"An' this?" Blades asked, pointing to a red and yellow smudge-thing beside two blue splotches of finger paint. "And these are…"

"Blaster," the little bot answered to the first one, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe, "And Blurr," the youngling pointed to the first blue smudge, "And 'Spray," pointing to the second blue splotch.

"Oh," replied Blades, continuing to scrutinize the painting as the youngling began to discreetly edge towards him. The street fighter didn't notice the little green and orange paint-covered fingers until it was too late. "Bumblebee!!!!"

The youngling giggled at the larger mech's indignant cry, leaping across the table to seek refuge in Raindance's arms as the street fighter roared in outrage and made a grab for the little bot. Bumblebee twittered and clicked in the artist's arms, curling into the big mech's shoulder as he stood up and scolded the youngling for his bad-mannered behavior.

"Bumblebee, you know better than to paint on others," scolded Raindance, hefting the youngling higher into his arms as he dragged Blades out of the room. "And look at all this paint, it's going to take me breems to clean you off. It's in _every_ opening." He poked at the red paint in the crevices of Bumblebee's side panels as he entered the washracks at the end of the hallway.

"What 'bout me?!" cried Blades, indicating the paint that was smeared all over his chassis and lower thigh panels.

"You can clean yourself off," replied Raindance, ignoring the street fighter as he placed the youngling into a miniature bathtub that Wheeljack had designed especially for the little bot. "You were probably already dirty to begin with," he murmured, filling the tub with cleaning fluid and beginning to thoroughly scrub Bumblebee with a soapy cloth.

Bumblebee squeaked indignantly, glaring up at his caretaker before saying, "I'm not dirty!" The youngling poked at various splotches of paint throughout his frame, not understanding that the finger paints would eat through his actual paintjob if it was left on for more than a few orns. "I'm an artist! And all artists are messy!"

To emphasize his point, Bumblebee splashed his little hands around in the tub and caused large amounts of cleaning fluid to overflow. Blades snickered from a nearby stall, watching as Raindance struggled to scrub the nooks and crannies of Bumblebee's messy little frame. Every mech dreaded the orn when they would have to give Bumblebee a bath since most of them had heard numerous horror stories of Ironhide's struggles to clean the little bot.

"Come here, Bumblebee," sighed Raindance, snatching up the tiny bot and then placing him back in the tub after he attempted to climb out. The jet had to give the small bot credit, Bumblebee was a sneaky lil' fragger. "No." Splash. "Don't." Splatter. "That is not for younglings!" Spray. "Give me that!!"

The older mech grabbed the shower jet from Bumblebee and repositioned the tiny bot in the bathtub once again. Raindance glanced down at the now wet paint that covered both himself and the floor, utterly amazed by the youngling's ability to turn a mundane activity such as bathing into a horribly frustrating ordeal.

Raindance had always been amazed by the utter devotion and tenderness that the usually gruff and volatile Ironhide displayed when he was in the youngling's presence. It was quite humbling to see firsthand what a youngling could do to a mech that was as bad-tempered and unsociable as the Autobot's resident weapons specialist. The old mech was completely devoted to Bumblebee, making it quite clear to everyone around him that the little bot was **_always _**his first and foremost priority.

"There we go," cooed Raindance, picking up Bumblebee from the bathtub and holding him up for a closer inspection, "Squeaky clean and completely presentable. The new recruits won't know what hit them when they see you."

Bumblebee simply squeaked, more than a little surprised when he found himself being deposited into the street fighter's arms as Raindance went into another stall to try and scrub the finger paint off of his arms and side panels. Blades merely gazed down at the small bot, not quite sure what to do with this tiny bundle of wires that had suddenly been dropped into his not-so-expectant arms. This kind of stuff seemed to be happening quite often as of late. Maybe he was becoming too soft…

Nahh, gutting Decepticons would stop _that _from ever happening.

"Now that that's done," said Raindance, striding over and plucking the youngling from the big mech's arms before entering the drying stalls, "It's time to dry you off, little one." He wrapped a fluffy towel around Bumblebee and held him underneath one of the large dryers, thoroughly scrubbing and drying the youngling. "All done."

The video correspondent exited the washracks and headed down towards the large seminar room where the new Autobots would be brought to after their arrival. He was not surprised to find most of his fellow mechs already gathered there, their large frames along with even larger guns making the room seem small at first glance. Bumblebee clicked in excitement, eagerly reaching out to Bluestreak and the twins as they entered from one of the side doors.

"Blue!"

"Well, if it isn't my favorite little bot in the whole, big, wide universe," responded Bluestreak, immediately sauntering over and officially relieving Raindance of youngling-sitting for the remainder of the orn. However, the aerial bot remained close by as the new recruits began to file into the room.

"Who're they?" asked Bumblebee, gazing warily at the strange mechs that entered from the far side of the room.

"They're going to be living on the _Artemis_ for a little while, Bee," said Bluestreak, cradling the youngling close to his chassis when one of the tallest mechs glanced his way. "They're Autobots too, and they'll be helping us on missions."

"They look really mean," Bumblebee whispered, curling slightly against the tall gunner and scanning the room for Optimus or his guardian. He was disappointed to find neither within the vicinity. But something else caught his optic. "Why do they have red optics?"

"What do you…" Bluestreak trailed off, staring at the cluster of towering mechs that were entering the room with wide optics. "Rain," whispered the gunner, tapping his comrade urgently on the shoulder, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing? Or should I go to the medbay and have my optical sensors examined?"

"No," stammered Raindance, staring at the mechs with an open mouth. "I just had my optics checked not long ago and they're seeing the exact same thing." Raindance did not know what to make of this sudden addition to _Artemis I's_ ranks. Nevertheless, he did know for a fact that the violence-level onboard was going to skyrocket now that they had five more psychotic-and-ultra-violent-Sunstreaker-clones living amongst them. "Why in the name of Primus would Magnus send _them_?"

"I want 'Hide," whimpered Bumblebee, clicking in fright when the largest of the reinforcements swept his blood-red gaze over the _Artemis _mechs. "Where's 'Hide?"

"Bee— "

_**"I want 'Hide!!!" **_

The optics of every mech in the room, familiar and stranger alike, turned to gaze at the wailing bundle of yellow wires that the young gunner held in his arms. Bluestreak felt his coolant heat up at the sudden attention that was placed on him, quickly signaling for Raindance and the twins to move with him as he exited through the nearest doorway. Thankfully, the trio were barely out of the conference room before they were approached by a familiar black figure.

"What's wrong with him?!" demanded Ironhide, immediately striding over when he heard the distressed squeaks of his youngling. "Bumblebee?" The hulking Autobot did not hesitate to snatch the tiny bot from his comrade's arms, cradling the minibot close as he continued to click and squeal unhappily despite the presence of his beloved guardian. "What's the matter, little one?"

"We got a problem, Ironhide," answered Raindance, running a tender finger over Bumblebee's faceplates and upper back. "The reinforcements have arrived."

"The reinforcements?" said Ironhide, well aware of the new batch of soldiers that his commander had requested from Ultra Magnus. "I know that they're— "

"Not them," sighed Raindance, pinching the bridge of his noseplate at just the mere thought of their soon-to-be comrades.

"Then **_who?!_**" snarled Ironhide, sick of not getting a straight answer from the young mechs before him. He had been stuck down in the bridge for the past few joors, watching two Decepticon punks that had been found amongst the outer sectors of Beta Nebulae, so he was not well informed on the identities of the new arrivals.

"The Dynobots."

_**"What?!"**_

The twins and Bluestreak were barely able to restrain Ironhide and stop him from charging into the conference room whilst Raindance snatched the little bot from the extra-large-terminally-enraged-and-trigger-happy weapons specialist. Bumblebee squeaked, his optics gazing at the struggling mass of black metal and hot wires that was his guardian. It was not every orn that Ironhide got **_this_** fragged-off.

"Ironhide!!" shouted Raindance, cradling the youngling against his upper chassis whilst quickly backing away from the infuriated mech, "Control yourself! This is not the time to— "

BOOM!!

The double doors to the conference room were swung open and closed as Ironhide charged into the expansive chamber, throwing his fellow Autobots to the side as he strided through the doorway. The twins were both lying on top of one another against the wall whilst poor Bluestreak seemed to be lying in a traumatized daze down the hallway, his head and shoulders in the air as he laid flat on his aching lower back.

"This ain't gonna go over well."

"Nope."

"Wonder if 'Hide'll blow another hole in the ceiling?"

"Possibly."

"Think we should follow him?"

"No way in the Pit."

Raindance simply rolled his optics at the twins, promptly turning his full attention to the sniffling and squeaking youngling in his arms after helping the dazed Bluestreak sit up and lean against the wall. Bumblebee clicked curiously, listening to the loud voices he heard echoing from down the hall and through the doorway as the older mechs sighed out loud and ignored the obvious confrontation that was taking place not even a hallway away from them.

"I'm sorry," said Bumblebee, curling into a tight little ball in Raindance's arms, "I didn't mean to get the new mechs in trouble, Rain." Bumblebee squeaked sadly and gazed up at the older mech, "I didn't mean to be a troublemaker. Honest."

"You're not a troublemaker, Bee," soothed Raindance, hugging the little bot even closer to him as another series of thunderous yells could be heard from the meeting room. "It's just that…well…" Raindance paused, trying to find words to describe the psychotic and very violent natures of these new arrivals, "The Dynobots are just a complicated and rather…touchy subject for most of the mechs onboard."

"Why?"

"It's a _**long**_ story, little buddy," sighed Raindance, turning to face Optimus Prime and Ironhide as they walked through the doorway. "Optimus, sir, is everything alright?"

Optimus Prime revved his internal systems and released a weary sigh, "Everything is fine, Raindance, we simply believe that the new arrivals will need a proper introduction to our youngest member. And as the situation appears to be, it would wise to get this little introduction over with as soon as possible." The Autobot commander plucked the tiny bot from his comrade's arms, gently handing him to his weapons specialist and then signaling for Ironhide to follow him into the conference room.

The entire conference room went silent the moment Ironhide walked through the doorway with the youngling tucked underneath his one of his immense arms. The optics of every Autobot was fixated on the tiny youngling, some protective and some curious, when the weapons specialist joined his commander at the front of the room. Bumblebee stared at the twenty strange mechs that stood in straight lines just below the podium, his arms subconsciously wrapping around his guardian's thick neck.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, my friends," began Optimus, staring down at the new arrivals before him, "But I believe that this situation must be addressed before we can hold any further inductions." The commander gazed around the room, receiving a large number of satisfied nods from his comrades. "The rumors that you have heard are true..."

The new arrivals stared at the tiny yellow bot, their optics not truly believing what their optical sensors were relaying to their processors. This simply could _**not**_ be true, it was too _good_ to be true. There were supposed to be none of them left. But right here, right now, every one of them was baring witness to this unbelievable feat that was lying before them, cradled tenderly in the arms of one of the Autobot's most formidable warriors.

"There is a youngling onboard _Artemis I_."

* * *

I'm actually really happy with how this chapter turned out, although I did intend for it to be quite a bit longer. However, I decided at the last minute that it would be wise to separate the parts and turn them into two chapters. It simply made more sense to me. If anyone can give me any suggestions on the Dynobots or the new arrivals, I am always open to them. I have the twenty picked out already, but I am willing to add one or two to the mix. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and I hope it lived up to your expectations. And please read Night Fire by Litahachee, it is such an excellent story. Thank you for reading!!


	10. Chapter X : New Arrivals

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter and were kind enough to answer my questions. I greatly appreciate it since I know next to nothing about the Dynobots and this is going to be an experimental chapter since I really am not too sure about how the Dynobots speak and interact with the other mechs. I am making the Dynobots mildly intelligent at this point in time, but trust me, they will not stay like that forever. Their constant need to wreak havoc will catch up with them in the future. So please be a little understanding and lenient towards poor little me. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter X - New Arrivals

* * *

The towering corridor that led to the large conference room onboard the infamous Autobot battleship _Artemis I_ was unnaturally silent as the new arrivals from Vector Sigma Military Base were introduced to the resident personnel of the flagship. Every mech in the room stared at the recruits with hard optics, carefully watching for any sign that they may not take to the tiny being that their weapons specialist held within his arms. In order to be onboard _Artemis I_, every mech had to accept responsibility for the younglings and look after them whenever their guardians were on-shift.

That was just the way things were onboard _Artemis I_.

Period.

"I'm sure that this has come as a shock to most of you," said Optimus Prime, his titanic form standing at the front of the room, "And I am pleased to see that your reaction has been that of surprise and disbelief. Both my crew and myself have attempted to shield the younglings from the outside world. If the Decepticons were to learn of their existence, it would be disastrous."

Optimus could see Ironhide tighten his hold on the youngling out of the corner of his optics, a shiver running through the weapons specialist's frame when he thought about the attack on Beta Nebulae. They had nearly lost Bumblebee, and that thought absolutely terrified him. The fatherly attachment that Ironhide had forged with the little minibot was unlike any bond that he formed before, even the powerful spark-bond that he had created with his beloved Chromia.

Not too far down from Ironhide stood the Autobot aerial commander, his left arm wrapped protectively around his own youngling charge. Fireflight, who was about the Cybertronian equivalent of a thirteen-year-old Earth child, glanced anxiously around at all of the unfamiliar mechs, unsure of how they were going to receive both himself and his younger yellow comrade. His guardian had reassured him that nothing was going to happen, but Fireflight could not help but feel nervous when surrounded by so many strange mechs. Thankfully, Silverbolt had understood his youngling's worries and had not left his side since the beginning of the meeting.

"Unfortunately, it is because of such an incident that you all have been called to this battleship under my request," continued Optimus, gesturing towards the tiny bundle of wires that Ironhide held in his arms. "At 1900 joors, approximately twelve orns ago, Beta Nebulae Military Base was attacked by a group of fifty Decepticons. Megatron was amongst them."

The arrivals straightened, their optics narrowing at the mere mention of the Decepticon Lord.

"It was clearly an offensive attack meant to disrupt and undermine our trade with other worlds, resulting in the deaths of seven base sentries and injuries for four of our own brothers." Optimus nodded at Huffer, Inferno, Blaster, and Cloudburst, who were seated at the back of the expansive room with good ol' Hoist keeping a close optic on the four injured mechs. "But there is another matter besides this that we must address before we delve further into the reasoning behind Megatron's attack."

The youngling squeaked when Optimus gestured in his direction, his blue optics widening with surprise as he attempted to burrow into his guardian's chassis. The little minibot did **_not _**like all of this unwanted attention, especially from these strange mechs that had suddenly invaded his home. And from the looks of it, Fireflight was not enjoying the extra attention either. Bumblebee clicked and twittered timidly, alerting Ironhide to his nervous and fearful plight.

"Hush, my little one," cooed Ironhide, his voice little more than a whisper as he soothingly stroked Bumblebee's lower back and side panels, "I'm here, you're safe. No one's going to touch you."

"Fire?" asked Bumblebee, his optics scanning the room for the older youngling.

"He's safe with his guardian," reassured Ironhide, "Do not worry, Silverbolt will not allow any harm to come to him just like I will not allow any to come to you."

"The Decepticons have discovered the existence of the younglings," continued Optimus as his fellow mechs' internal systems revved with nervousness, "And it was Megatron himself who encountered the smaller of the younglings, Bumblebee, during our attempts to safely transport him from the base and onto the battleship. I fear that Megatron may not only attempt another attack in the coming vorn, but also attempt yet another abduction should the opportunity present itself."

Silverbolt tightened his hold on Fireflight, a protective aura emanating from the aerial commander at the mention of a possible abduction. Fireflight had been safe with him onboard _Artemis I_ during the attack, but the possibility of another attempted kidnapping made his tanks churn. His youngling had witnessed his Youth Sector caretakers being ruthlessly slaughtered by Decepticons when he was no older than the Cubertronian equivalent of a five-year-old Earth child. The last thing Silverbolt's flighty and daydreamy charge needed was to encounter the sources of his nightmares again.

Fireflight was simply not ready to face his greatest fears yet.

The leader of the new arrivals stood at the front of the lines, his dark gray frame glinting in the bright light as he stepped forward and leaned in for a closer inspection of the tiny youngling. Bumblebee simply squeaked in surprise, desperately attempting with all of his little might to climb over his shoulder and hide in the small groove on the huge mech's lower back. Unfortunately, his guardian had other plans and grabbed the tiny bot by his scruff-bar. The youngling twittered and cursed heatedly, earning a series of gasps from the arrivals and scolds from his horrified caretakers.

"Bumblebee!!!" squawked Optimus, flailing his arms as he desperately attempted to silence the youngling's vehement curses and violent profanities. "What have I told you about using such obscene language?!"

Click. Buzz. Twitter. Chirrup. Click.

"Bumblebee!!" shouteded Ratchet, violently shoving his way through the crowd as he listened in horror to the youngling curse the older mechs to Pit in several different languages. "Where in the galaxy did you— "

The medic trailed off, his processor locating the only four Autobots he knew who used such foul language on a regular basis.

"**_Jazz!!! Blades!!! Twins!!!_**"

The aforementioned mechs cowered beneath the surgeon's reddened gaze, their colossal frames attempting to hide behind their more responsible and mature comrades. None of them wanted to be on the receiving end of the Hatchet's projectiles, so it was obvious that any chance of survival would have to come from excessive amounts of begging and pleading. Then again, any hope of forgiveness would depend upon the Hatchet's current mood, which didn't seem to be too understanding at the present time.

"I thought I told you four **_not_** to ever use such **_filthy_** language in front of the younglings **_ever _**again?!" Ratchet hollered, dangerously waving a hydrospanner in his left hand. "They copy what they hear!! Are you slaggers too glitchy to figure that out?!"

Every one of the new arrivals watched the scene with disbelief and amusement, not quite sure what to make of this very unusual situation. Never before had they seen such blatant disrespect towards one's comrades.

Well, except for the Dynobots, of course.

"When I'm through with you four you won't be able to tell where your aft starts and your cranium ends, you Pit-slaggin' buckets of bolts!!" shouted Ratchet, towering over the four mechs like a mutant from the Underworld. "I swear, I don't understand why I bother to repair such glitchin' slag-heads!!!"

"Slag-head."

Every optic in the huge chamber turned to stare at the youngling, his little cursey-chirp drawing their attention away from the violence that was coagulating at the other end of the room. Bumblebee twittered at the sudden attention, quietly whispering, "Slag-tard," before he hid behind one of Ironhide's massive cannons. The little bot stared at the older mechs as they stared right on back, baby blue optics filled with a mixture of anxiety and fascination.

Fireflight giggled at the slew of cuss words that were spewing forth from his sole younger comrade's voice capacitor. The bright red and white youngling missed the orns when he could get away with swearing because everyone thought that it sounded funny or cute coming from such a little mech. Now if he swore, Silverbolt scolded him all the way to the other side of the galaxy and back again.

"Little bot very talented," murmured one of the Dynobots.

Bumblebee clicked in reply, not quite trusting his voice capacitor in the presence of these strange new mechs who stared at him like he was a wide cube of high-grade that was simply waiting to be sampled. The youngling continued to twitter in his guardian's arms, watching as the older mechs began to converse with one another in quiet voices. Nevertheless, the dark silver mech never took his optics off of Bumblebee during his whole conversation with Optimus Prime and soon walked over to inspect this tiny miracle that he had heard so many stories about in the past few orns.

"Well, well, you are a tiny one, aren't you?" remarked the gray mech whilst giving Ironhide a quick nod in greeting. "It has been quite a long time since I've seen a youngling, but I must say that you're definitely the cutest little bundle of wires my optics have ever seen."

"No need to compliment him, Kup," warned Ironhide, shifting the youngling into a more comfortable and visible position atop his left cannon, "Bumblebee's already well aware of how _adorable _he is thanks to Optimus and certain other mechs with soft spark casings."

He gave the youngling an affectionate flick to the head.

"Little bot gets just about whatever he wants, when he wants it," said Ironhide while fixing his comrades with an accusing glare, "Despite the fact that I have explicitly told them not to give it to him."

A knowing smile spread across Silverbolt's faceplates at his older comrade's words. He knew exactly how Ironhide felt since the other mechs tended to let Fireflight get away with murder as well. Silverbolt had lost count of the number of times he had had to play the bad guy and discipline his youngling for something that his more lenient and soft-sparked comrades had simply decided to overlook. In the end, Silverbolt always ended up having to deal with the bruises and the energon tears at the end of the orn.

Kup shook his head in mirth and smiled softly, kneeling down onto one knee to better speak with the youngling, "Bumblebee, is it?"

Bumblebee squeaked quietly, glancing between Ironhide and this strange new bot with wide optics before finally murmuring a soft, "Uh huh."

The old Autobot could feel the optics of every one of his comrades on his panels, none of them quite sure what to make of this abrupt and sudden bombshell. Not even the Dynobots made a peep as the ancient warrior conversed with the tiny youngling that lived onboard their Supreme Commander's infamous battleship.

The existence of not one, but two, younglings simply seemed too surreal for them to fathom.

"How old are you, Bumblebee?" Kup asked, watching as the youngling gradually became more comfortable and relaxed as he continued to ask simple questions. The little bot even dared to remove his tiny head from his guardian's chest, giving the whole room a full view of his child-like face. Kup could practically hear the three stoic femmes that were in his unit swooning over the timid and endearing minibot.

Bumblebee held up a few fingers for the old Autobot, finally saying his age after a little bit of coaxing on his guardian's part. Kup merely smiled and waited patiently, not at all in a rush to discuss the situation of Cybertron with the Autobot Commander. He could tell that the mechs onboard _Artemis I_ had been under a great amount of stress and did not wish to turn to darker matters until it was absolutely necessary.

A squeal of surprise could be heard from down the line where one of the new arrivals got too close for comfort and startled an already fidgety Fireflight. The poor youngling looked like he wanted to fuse into his guardian's side and disappear from sight completely.

"They're so adorable," murmured one of the femmes, her magenta armor and small stature setting her apart from her fellow Autobot warriors. "I can't believe that—

She was suddenly cut off by the sound of rumbling chuckles to her right side. The femme turned to glare at the big Dynobot Commander, her optics blazing when her receptors picked up on his disdainful laughter towards the younglings.

"Mute it, Grimlock!" snapped Arcee, giving the titanic mech a swift kick in the shin, "Primus, why do you always have to be such a hard-aft?"

"Arcee!" shouted Kup, shocked by the femme's fearlessness towards the immense and short-tempered Dynobot commander. "Simmer down!"

The petite femme continued to glare up at the towering mech, her light blue optics piercing into his blood red ones as the air between them buzzed with tense electricity. The animosity was palpable and many of their fellow Autobots crept away from them as every piece of their frames seemed to rev with frustration and aggression. Neither bot appeared to be greatly fond of the other, and Optimus began to wonder if he would have to separate them before the first orn was over.

"Me Grimlock not going to listen to puny femme!" snapped the enormous Dynobot. The Autobots watched with bated breath as the feisty little femme seemed to quiver where she stood, her frame shaking with barely suppressed indignation and rage at having her small size insulted. "Me Grimlock stronger and more important than scrawny Arcee!"

"Here we go again," sighed a yellow and green mech, pinching the bridge of his noseplate as his two comrades bickered and shouted at one another as the other Autobots stared with wide optics. "It's amazing that those two can even be in the same room as one another without blasting it to the Pit. I'm telling you, their short-tempers are going to blow this ship into oblivion before the end of the vorn."

"I've already started a pool," smirked a red and orangish-yellow mech to his right, "And I have my bets on ol' Grimy firing the first shot."

"Nahh," replied a blue mech, his titanic frame towering above the other Autobots as he stood to the far side, "I've got my chips on our lil' Arcee. I've never seen any other bot get under her panels as quickly as that Dynobot does; her guns have been sparking and sizzling since those mechs came onboard our ship."

Bumblebee watched the two strange bots with curious optics, his tiny face peeking over his guardian's shoulder as the Autobot leaders conversed with each other at the front of the conference room. The new arrivals seemed unfazed by the bickering warriors, most brushing the argument off as routine and normal whenever one of the flagship's residents asked if they should intervene on the femme's behalf. They got the same answer each time they asked that apparently foolish question.

"Don't you worry none," assured a bright red mech known as Quickstrike, "Arcee can handle herself just fine with Mr. Strike-first-and-think-later. Her offensive strategy is far superior to Grimlock's classic smoke-'em-and-blow-'em technique."

"Translation: She's fine as long as the big guy doesn't catch her," quipped the red mech's cousin. "Not that Grimlock would ever intentionally hurt her, but Arcee regularly forgets just how small she is compared to the rest of us. And Grimlock doesn't exactly do _gentle _very well," explained Bulkhead, watching with amusement as the tiny femme gave the gigantic Dynobot another swift kick to the shin panels.

"And they call us immature!" laughed Hot Rod, turning to Springer and the twins who stood behind him. Unfortunately for him, not one of the three mechs were kind enough to forewarn him about the energon cube that soon collided with the back of his head. The mech yelped in indignation, turning around to glower at the deviously smirking femme.

"Opps, sorry, hun'," snickered Arcee, her light blue optics shining with a mixture of cunning and innocence as her friend glared at her, "I was aiming for Grimlock, but it seems that my hand slipped mid-throw." Of course, Grimlock was standing on the other side of the room. "What can I say, my aim isn't what it used to be."

The sound of giggles soon drew the attention to the front of the room, where the tiny youngling could just barely be seen over his guardian's broad shoulder. Bright blue optics gazed at the bantering group of Autobots, his quiet timidity causing his caretakers to laugh at the unassuming bots who stood amongst them. None of the new arrivals seemed to realize that once that little youngling became accustomed to their presence, they would never be able to walk through the rec room without being tackled by a tiny yellow mini-missile. Most of the mechs onboard _Artemis I_ had lost track of how many touch-ups they had received after Bumblebee had learned to run at full speed.

"Hello, little one," cooed Arcee, her dispute with Grimlock completely forgotten when she saw the tiny youngling staring at her, "Aren't you an adorable little bot." Bumblebee squeaked in pleasure when the femme gently rubbed his audio receptors, his tiny clicks and twitters drawing the attention of his overprotective guardian. "And such a friendly little youngling."

"Just wait until recharge time," rumbled Ironhide, shifting the youngling higher up onto his shoulder as Optimus and Kup continued their conversation, "Then you'll see just how adorable this lil' microchip really is, lil' lady."

Fireflight finally decided to remove himself from his guardian's side, relieved that most of the attention had drifted towards the smaller youngling. He usually did not mind crowds, but this meeting and all the attention they were receiving was just a little bit overwhelming in the daydreamy young flier's book-chip.

The meeting continued on for almost an entire joor as the Autobots discussed the current situation on Cybertron. To say that Optimus was not worried about the control that Megatron had gained over numerous sectors would have been a flat-out lie. His brother was controlling a number of sectors that contained vital fuel sources and had been invading dozens of surrounding worlds. And if the information that he had received from Elita and her squadron was anything to go by, then it would not be long before Megatron attempted to invade the Autobot stronghold of Iacon.

As the second joor came to pass, Bumblebee began to feel more and more tired. His small frame had begun to slump long ago and he had twittered crankily up at his guardian, not at all happy about the uncomfortable position he was being held in. After being ignored with a quick gesture of silence from the black mech, Bumblebee decided to take matters into his own hands and swiftly smacked the older mech on the side of the head. Ironhide growled in irritation and shifted the position of his arms, discreetly attempting to keep a firm hold on his squirmy charge. The youngling quieted down when his guardian grabbed him by his scruff-bar yet again, causing the little bot to curl into a tight ball and glare up at the offending hand.

This was becoming quite the routine lately.

"Behave yourself," scolded Ironhide, repositioning the youngling once again in his arms as Bumblebee started to squirm and click for the second time, "That's it. I've had it. Time for a nap." Ironhide gave the new arrivals a long-suffering look and hefted the very cranky youngling higher into his arms, "All this excitement's causing his systems to shift into overdrive."

"I think it would be prudent if we left as well," agreed Silverbolt, gently steering his still-anxious youngling towards the exit. "The younglings need some time to absorb the sudden presence of so many new faceplates."

The other mechs stared at the twittering and clicking youngling, shocked by the sleep-deprived temper-tantrum that they were witnessing. The little bot had gone from being perfectly happy and playful one breem, to being downright irritable and cranky the next. None of them quite knew what to make of this pouty-faced little bot whom they were supposed to protect with their very own lives.

"And why should me Grimlock protect _that_?" questioned the largest Dynobot, his arms crossed over his chassis and his blood red optics fixed on the squirming youngling. "Little bot's loud and obnoxious and— "

_**"AAAAHHHHH!!!!"**_

Every mech and femme in the room cringed at the receptor-shattering decibels the youngling released from his voice capacitor, the new arrivals groaning in anguish as their auditory receptors painfully rattled within their cranial units. Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Perceptor smirked, relieved by the fact that they had installed super-dense alloy circuits into the sides of their own receptors. Ironhide simply sighed and strided out of the room, not fazed by the tantrum since he had developed an immunity to the youngling's piercing screams many vorns ago.

The old mech's specialty in dealing with temper-tantrums went unrivalled in the universe. Not that a weapons specialty wasn't enough, but being able to handle a cranky and sleep-deprived youngling was always a _plus_ in his log-chips.

"That, my friend, is why you protect and _**never**_ insult a youngling," snapped Jazz, his claws running over his abused auditory receptors and feeling small bits of circuitry fall out, "Primus, that's the third one this vorn."

"Grimlock protect little bot," replied a rather dazed Dynobot Commander, "If it keep little bot quiet." The titanic mech vigorously shook his head and rubbed at a tender spot on his foreplates, "Grimlock's head hurt. Really bad."

"That's what we call a _headache_ 'round 'ere, my friend," replied Sideswipe as he too rubbed at his aching receptors and cringed when he felt some circuitry fall out, "An' ya better prepare to have a lot o' them if ya plan to keep upsettin' Bee like that. So no more insultin', ya got it?"

"Grimlock got it."

* * *

Okay, I must admit that I really do not like this chapter and I just do not know what else to do with it. I'm really sorry if I have portrayed the Dynobots or Arcee wrong and I will gladly revise this if it is as bad as I myself feel it is. I really do not understand why I had such a hard time writing this chapter, but I did and I am sorry if it doesn't live up to your expectations. School, kickboxing, work, and baby-sitting has given me strep throat so that is probably one of the reasons this chapter isn't up to par with my others. Okay, I'm done. If I need to revise, just let me know.

And please read Night Fire by Litahatchee, it is an excellently written story that uses quite a few of my ideas and weaves them into a wonderful story about Ironhide and Chromia. And there are many Bumblebee moments meshed in there to make a person very happy. I love the story myself & highly recommend it. So go read it!!


	11. Chapter XI : Ironhide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter and were kind enough to answer my questions. And I would like to give an extra-big thanks to MoonstarWorld for giving me a number of great suggestions for this chapter. The last chapter was just a pain in the butt for me to write for some reasons, but many of his/her suggestions have allowed for me to write this much more straightforward and less messy chapter. And I promise that I will continue to try to keep the new arrivals in-character. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter XI - Ironhide

* * *

The towering hallways of the infamous Autobot battleship _Artemis I _were packed full with the titanic frames of the new arrivals and the incalculable crates of supplies they had brought with them. Every mech and femme from Vector Sigma Military Base thought of themselves as deadly warriors who would follow their great commander to the farthest reaches of the universe to protect their individual beliefs. Most of the Autobot forces had concluded long ago that they would sooner die than be enslaved under a tyrannical leader. Unfortunately, some those ideals seemed a little insignificant when one was dealing with a stubborn youngling who refused to listen to his guardian's words of reason and wisdom.

"Don't move, little one," warned Ironhide, his terrified optics fixed on the tiny bot high up in the rec room rafters, "Inferno's on his way and will have you down in less than a breem."

The little youngling didn't seem fazed by his precarious predicament and simply continued to walk along the rafters as if there was nothing wrong in the universe. Every creak that Bumblebee's little feet created almost sent his guardian into a permanent fritz that not even Ratchet would be able to completely repair. And it seemed that no amount of negotiations could convince the tiny bot to stay put until his rescuers arrived. Ironhide paced the rec room like a caged animal, following Bumblebee's tiny yellow form every time it so much as twitched or stirred above him.

"Bumblebee!!" shouted Ironhide, his usually gruff voice laced with panic when he saw his youngling teeter on a perilously thin beam, "Stop right there!!! I swear to Primus, if you so much as move _**one **_more meter I _**will**_ ground you for the **_rest_** of the vorn!!!! Are you even listening to me?!?!?"

"I could probably catch him if he jumped," stated Sunstreaker, his own blue optics fixed on the giggling youngling, "Or if I shot that beam right there— "

"Don't you dare!!" snarled Ironhide, his right cannon locking onto the yellow twin as the other red one ran in circles beneath the youngling, his arms held out in case the tiny bot lost his balance and toppled from the hanging rafters. "Bumblebee is **_not_** jumping!!!"

"It was just a thought," grumbled Sunstreaker whilst glancing at the new arrivals who were watching the whole incident from afar in the weight room. He and his brother had given the new mechs a very _stern_ lecture on how to treat Bumblebee and what would happen if they ever upset the little bot. To put it simply, the results would not be pretty at all. "Besides, we can't have him getting scratches all over his glossy paintjob. That paint cost me thirty credits per cube."

"If you keep pampering him like that, Sunny, the lil' bot's gonna become as shallow as you," quipped Warpath whilst easily deflecting the big mech's retaliating punch. "And that is the last thing we want to become of our sweet lil' Bumblebee."

"Oh frag!!"

The bickering mechs turned just in time to see both Fireflight and Silverbolt topple to the floor, their wings twitching from being forced to fly in such a confined space. Four of the beams near Bumblebee were now mangled and twisted from where the two aerial bots had desperately tried to make a grab for him, their attempts failing when their wings had become caught in the smaller girders.

"Told you it wouldn't work," stated Dogfight from his perch on one of the nearby chip tables, "Your wings are too wide and bulky to fit between the beams."

"I've got him!!" cried Skydive's jovial voice before another loud crash resounded throughout the room, "Or maybe not…"

Bumblebee giggled at the groaning aerial bot, his little voice chattering away as he ran around the rafters like it was an ornly occurrence and continued to evade the grasping hands of his caretakers. Not even good ol' Hound or Bluestreak could coax him to come down with promises of new game-chips or holo-models. Basically, it was a never-ending game of robo-cat and glitch mouse.

"I'm here!" yelled the familiar voice of Inferno, "I'm here! Where is he?"

"Up there!" snarled Ironhide, pointing up to the tiny yellow bot who was walking along the rafters directly above them.

"How did he get up there?!"

"I don't know and I don't care!!!" hollered Ironhide, his spark nearly exploding in his chest when he saw his youngling teeter from side to side before finally righting himself again. **_"Just get him down before he falls!!!!"_**

"Alright, alright, I'm on it!!"

Bumblebee twittered at the crane that had invaded his rafter-playground, not very happy with the thought of having his game of hide-and-seek interrupted just when it was starting to get interesting. The little bot squeaked when he saw Jazz and Blurr emerge from the crane and step onto one of the thickest of the rafters, their optics locking onto Bumblebee the instant they were on the upper level.

"Playtime's over, lil' buddy," said Jazz, watching silently as Blurr flipped through the thicker rafters and snatched up Bumblebee before he could skitter away. "Time fo' ya to face th'music."

The youngling squirmed in Blurr's unyielding arms, his irritated clicks and angry twitters indicating that he was on the verge of throwing yet another temper-tantrum. That would be the fourth one in the past twenty-five joors. Ironhide truly could not figure out what was bringing these bad-tempered fits on all of a sudden. Bumblebee was generally never this petulant and moody, even when he didn't get what he wanted from his beloved caretakers.

The mechs of _Artemis I_ did not know what to do with the ornery youngling.

Ironhide seized the screaming and crying youngling from his comrade's extended arms, thoroughly frustrated by the little bot's touchy moods and constant temper-tantrums over the past few orns. Every time Ironhide turned his back the little bot would disappear into either the ventilation systems or small crevices throughout whatever room they were currently in. And then, Bumblebee would throw a horrible tantrum once he was snatched up by one of his surprised caretakers.

"Bumblebee, stop this spoilt behavior!" scolded Ironhide, grabbing the youngling by his scruff-bar and holding the little bot before his faceplates. Bumblebee simply yelled and screamed even louder if that were possible, his tiny frame curling into a tight ball and streams of energon tears running down his wailing faceplates. It tore at Ironhide's battle-hardened spark to see his youngling so upset. "Bumblebee!!"

The other Autobots watched in horror when the youngling began to hiccup loudly, his tiny frame convulsing as he emptied his heaving tanks all over the rec room floor. His guardian immediately lowered him onto his left plasma cannon and gently rubbed the tiny bot's back panels, coaxing the rest of the unprocessed energon out of his hacking systems. Bumblebee continued to cry throughout this whole ordeal, his distressed squeaks causing his numerous caretakers to instinctively move towards him.

"Oh, little one," cooed Ironhide, tenderly rubbing his youngling's faceplates in an attempt to wipe some of the energon away, "That's it, let it all out." Bumblebee continued to squeak and cry quietly, snuggling into his guardian's broad chassis before seeking the warmth of his glowing spark. "Hush, my little one, shhh," soothed Ironhide, slipping out of the rec room with Jazz and Bluestreak at his side. Neither mech wanted to abandon the tiny bot and insisted on coming with Ironhide to his and Bumblebee's quarters.

"Get Optimus, Ratchet, Hoist, and Kup," Ironhide ordered Blurr as the other mech walked alongside him expectantly, _**"Now."**_

"I'm on it," saluted the speedster, zooming down the hallway at record breaking speeds with a hardy wave, "Be back in a flash!"

Ironhide looked down when he felt tiny fingers ghosting over his faceplate, gazing down into the watery optics of his tiny youngling charge. Bumblebee released a soft click and whispered, "I'm sorry," before burying his head into his guardian's chassis yet again. The gruff ol' weapons specialist released a quiet click himself and cradled the exhausted youngling close to his spark, hoping that the warmth and love that he felt for the minibot would be perceived through the strong bond that they had forged over the past few vorns.

"What am I going to do with you?" Ironhide whispered, tenderly stroking the little bot's auditory receptors and side panels. "Primus…"

* * *

_Several breems later…_

"Oh, Bee," sighed Bluestreak, carefully washing the crusted energon off of the lil' bot's frame in Ironhide's personal washrack whilst the older mech spoke with the higher-ups in his quarters. "You sure know how to cause a stir, I'll give you that."

The little bot released a series of quiet clicks and chirrups, too worn-out to bother with sentences and other difficult forms of advanced speech.

"I don't think I've ever seen Sunny with such a terrified look on his faceplates before…"

Squeak. Click. Buzz. Twitter. Chirp. Squeak.

"No, not even the time when Skywarp dumped a huge barrel of purple paint on him. Sunny may be a big, golden psychopath, but he really does have a soft spark when it comes to you, Bee."

Click. Buzz. Twitter. Squeak. Click. Chirp. Squeak.

"What?! They're not going to eat you!! Primus, who told you that they would **_eat_** you?!"

Click. Chirp. Squeak. Click. Click. Squeak. Twitter.

"The Dynobots do **_not_** eat younglings for breakfast, Bee!!" sighed Bluestreak, his optics fixed on the tiny youngling as he began to scrub him with the special extra-bubbly cleaning fluid that Quickmix had concocted especially for little Bumblebee.

Everything in the weapons specialist's washracks was designed to accommodate the youngling's presence: from his own personal little bathtub next to Ironhide's huge shower stall, to the numerous little play-toys scattered throughout the shelves, up to the fluffy yellow towels in the drawers, down to the tiny yellow stool beside the sink, over to the cute little cyber-bee designs painted on the walls, and then finally down to the miniature jet spray that was designed to properly clean Bumblebee's tiny frame.

To say the least, Wheeljack, Hoist, and Quickmix had not missed a thing when designing the tiny bot's living quarters.

"The Dynobots drink energon just like the rest of us, Bee," sighed Bluestreak as he poured the extra-bubbly powder into the cleaning fluid, "Sunny and Blades were just being a pair of sarcastic glitches."

"What's stargastric mean?" asked Bumblebee, picking up a rubber cyber-duck and throwing it through the doorway to his sleeping quarters. Optimus Prime's majestic head soon peeked through the doorway and Bumblebee waved at the Autobot commander jovially as Bluestreak struggled to keep him in the bathtub, "Hi, Opt!! Hi!!"

"Hello, little one."

"Don't throw things, Bee," scolded Bluestreak as he snatched another rubber toy from the youngling's hands, "And it's pronounced sar-cas-tic, lil' buddy." He dumped a small cube of extra-shine cleaning foam onto the little bot's head and started to carefully scrub around Bumblebee's sensitive receptors. "And it means that you don't mean exactly what you say you mean, got it?"

"Oh," squeaked the little bot, his tiny head cocked to the side in contemplation, "I guess so…"

"Good, now lift up your arms so I can wash behind your joints," said the gunner, picking up a soft yellow clothe so that he could properly clean the little bot's frame. Bumblebee did as instructed and simply kicked his legs around in the cleaning fluid in an effort to create the little bubbles that he so loved to play with during his baths. Within less than a breem, the entire room was filled with gigantic bubbles floating throughout the air as they made their way into the minibot's sleeping quarters.

"Bubbles! Bubbles! Bubbles!" squeaked Bumblebee, squirming in Bluestreak's hands as he attempted to pop any translucent sphere that was foolish enough to float into his optical range. Ironhide's head soon poked through the door to see what was going on and why there were bubbles entering his quarters. Bumblebee chirped happily at the sight of his beloved guardian and continued to chatter, "Get bubbles, 'Hide! Get bubbles!"

Ironhide simply decided that it would be wise to indulge the exuberant youngling and popped a giant bubble that was floating within his optical range. Bumblebee chirped and clicked happily, his squirming limbs making it difficult for poor Bluestreak to clean the nooks and crannies of the little bot's frame. Nonetheless, Ironhide was deeply relieved to see his youngling acting like his usual, cheerful self instead of the sullen, irritable little monster that he had recently turned into over the past few orns.

"Recharge time in four breems," said Ironhide, wagging a thick finger in front of the tiny bot as he continued to kick the cleaning fluid around and attack any bubbles that dared to form above his bathtub, "No ifs, ands, or buts, got it?"

Click. Buzz. Chirrup. Twitter. Click. Chirp. Click.

"Bumblebee," scolded Ratchet's knowing voice from outside the doorway, "What have I told you about speaking like a big-bot?"

The youngling twittered at the chief surgeon, his tiny frame curling into the fluffy yellow towels that Bluestreak was wrapping around him. Bumblebee was then handed to his guardian whilst the gunner attempted to clean up the mess that the tiny youngling had created from his bathtub base. Ironhide gently scrubbed the little bot dry and walked into their sleeping quarters where Optimus, Ratchet, Hoist, Kup, and Prowl were all waiting to see what was wrong with the little youngling.

Jazz immediately appeared from the top bunk and snatched the little bot from his guardian's arms, throwing the youngling into the air and causing him to giggle and chirp in delight. "How's my lil' buddy doin'?" cooed the saboteur, tickling the tiny bot with his claws and flipping back up onto the top bunk. "It's jus' ya an' me tonight, Bee."

"He's getting awfully big to have someone sleep with him," commented Ratchet whilst listening to Jazz's calm voice and the soothing music that was drifting down from the top bunk.

Ironhide merely waved the old-fashioned medic off, calmly replying, "Bee's not even out of his second-frame yet. Most younglings his age would still be recharging in the same rooms as their creators. Especially with the…"

The other mechs observed how their fellow Autobot trailed off, purposely cutting himself off before he uttered any words remotely related to his beloved Chromia. None of them enjoyed thinking about the extended separations that they were forced to endure due to the war. Most of them had not seen their bonded for many vorns, namely Ironhide and Optimus Prime whose bonded were leading operations down on Cybertron.

"Aside from that," interrupted Hoist whilst standing from his position at the huge weapons specialist's desk, "I think all of this sudden commotion has caused Bumblebee's emotional processes to be overwhelmed; thus, the abrupt string of temper tantrums. This type of behavior is actually fairly normal for a youngling when so many strange mechs are suddenly thrown into its life. I'm truly surprised that Bumblebee hasn't been more vocal about the new unit's arrival. Poor bot's been getting more attention than he can obviously handle," finished Hoist.

"So, what do we do?" asked Bluestreak as he emerged from the washrack.

"We limit Bumblebee's interaction with the members of Kup's unit to a minimum," explained Hoist as the ancient Autobot warrior nodded his head in understanding, "And I believe that it would be wise to have the youngling meet with most of them one-on-one, so that he can get to know them without any external pressure. Especially the Dynobots, since Bumblebee seems to believe that they…eat younglings for breakfast."

Ironhide nodded his head in approval, inwardly deciding that Bumblebee would only meet with the Dynobots if he was present to oversee the entire meeting. He did not trust such reckless and powerful mechs to be gentle with his tiny youngling, and nothing was going to change his mind unless he saw absolute tenderness and careful precision from the titanic mechs. And saw it consistently for many, many joors; possibly even vorns if that's what it took to make his paranoid spark calm down enough to let the youngling out of his optical sight when around those giant trigger-happy destroyers.

"And someone should probably take Bumblebee to one of the quieter parts of the ship for some bonding time every once in a while," said Hoist, "To help soothe his nerves until he becomes more accustomed to the unit's presence."

"I'll take Bee tomorrow," volunteered Bluestreak, always eager to spend some quality time with his little buddy, "And I'm sure the others would be willing to set up a time for 'youngling-bonding' too."

"That works for me," agreed Ironhide as his fellow mechs began to filter out of the room to return to their ornly tasks. However, Ironhide quickly stopped his commander from leaving and requested to meet with both him and Prowl later in the orn on the bridge so that they could talk about Bumblebee's situation with the new arrivals. The weapons specialist was just about to leave and start his shift down in the brig when he heard his youngling call out for him.

"'Hide!" shouted Bumblebee's little voice from the top bunk where he was supposed to be recharging alongside his assigned babysitter, "Jazz swore!"

_**"Jazz!!!"**_

"Ya lil' traitor!"

* * *

I must admit that I like this chapter a heck of a lot more than the last one. I love to write cute baby Bumblebee scenes. And I must say that little kids sure love to create complete and utter chaos whenever they are given a bath. Or at least, my very little brother and cousins sure love to throw water on me when I give them their baths. Little demons is what they are, but cute little demons, nonetheless. I hope that everyone likes this chapter and that it lives up to your expectations. Thank you for reading!!


	12. Chapter XII : Bluestreak

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed my last chapter and were kind enough to answer my questions. And I would like to give an extra-big thanks to MoonstarWorld and Litahatchee for giving me a number of great suggestions for this chapter. I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. And I promise that I will continue to try to keep the new arrivals in-character. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter XII - Bluestreak

* * *

The towering hallways of the infamous Autobot battleship _Artemis I _were silent in the early joors of morning as a handful of mechs patrolled the lengthy corridors and grand staircases of the mighty vessel. The long hallways of the officers' quarters remained calm and quiet as the battleship's top soldiers recharged atop their comfy berths. Every once in a while a tell-tale thump or clang would echo up from the lower laboratories, alerting the sentries to the continued presence of their more technical comrades. However, there was one other individual awake at the moment… 

"'Hide…"

A tiny finger poked at the weapons specialist's faceplates, disturbing the massive mech from his peaceful slumber. Ironhide could feel the little hands and feet on his huge chassis, their incessant tapping and prodding making him grumble in irritation as he tried to shift into another position. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to work and the tiny minibot continued to crawl all over his guardian in an attempt to gain his attention. The young bot was not used to being ignored and made his displeasure known with a series of loud and obnoxious clicks into his guardian's sensitive auditory receptors.

"'Hide!"

Bumblebee twittered in frustration when his guardian simply rolled over onto his side once again, ignoring him completely as he charged up his recharge cycle and closed his audio receptors. The minibot continued to pout and buzz for a few more astroseconds before he finally flopped down onto his tiny skidplate, his little feet tapping against the weapons specialist's thick shoulder panels with an obvious air of irritation.

Why wasn't Ironhide waking up? Was he sick? Or did he simply not want to talk to him? What if he had a virus?! A really bad one that made his processor go on the fritz and his cannons fire at will?!?!

The frightened youngling jumped up and began to shake his guardian with a vigor that Ironhide had not thought such a tiny being capable of; especially at this time of night. Bumblebee crawled on top of Ironhide's head, poking and probing at every exposed wire or circuit that his little fingers could find in the pitch-black armor. After a few moments of no reactions, Bumblebee decided that it would be wise to attempt the direct approach once again.

_**"'Hide!!"**_

The entire room seemed to tremble from the sharp decibel level of the yell, once again proving to the universe that younglings were not to be underestimated in even the most peaceful of circumstances. And unfortunately, the past few orns had proven to be quite distressing for said youngling.

_**"WHAT!?!?"**_

The tiny bot squeaked and chirruped in indignation, plopping down right on top of Ironhide's carrying hold when the older mech tried to roll over once again. Ironhide fixed the youngling with a stern glare, not at pleased with the fact that he been woken up before his shift started by a restless minibot. Ironhide released a deep rumble from low in his chest and simply rubbed at his blind optic with rough fingers. Perhaps he was being too lenient as a guardian and spoiling the youngling. Maybe that was why Bumblebee had been waking up at all joors of the night lately.

Nevertheless, worried blue optics gazed right back at Ironhide as the youngling poked at the thick black armor that covered his guardian's bright blue spark. Within a few short moments, Bumblebee forgot all about why he had awoken in the first place and simply continued to poke at the ebony armor with sudden curiosity and ardent fascination.

"Bumblebee?"

The youngling simply ignored his guardian, continuing to poke and prod in a way that made Ironhide wonder if he should take his little charge down to the medbay. Exactly how long had it been since Bumblebee had last had his CPU scanned? Ironhide could not seem to remember, but he was pretty sure that it hadn't been that long ago. Maybe it had been longer than he had—

"Hey! Stop that!"

Bumblebee clicked in frustration, his little legs kicking in mid-air as Ironhide held him by his scruff-bar and proceeded to lean back onto one of his thick elbows. Nonetheless, after a few astroseconds Ironhide gently placed Bumblebee into his lap and started to rub the tiny bot's lower neck. All precedence of irritation instantly drained from Bumblebee's body and evaporated into thin air, his guardian's lulling fingers quickly easing him into a state of utter contentment.

It wasn't long before Bumblebee was curled into a tight little ball and purring languidly in his guardian's warm lap. Ironhide simply smirked, completely at ease himself to just be with his little youngling. Although he would never admit it out loud, Bumblebee was his pride and joy, the only thing in the universe besides his spark-mate that he honestly loved with every molecule of his war-hardened spark. Everything that he did in life was for this tiny being that was curled up in his lap, utterly helpless and completely vulnerable to the dark horrors of the universe.

Ironhide's massive frame shifted into a more comfortable position, allowing the youngling to snuggle into the warm crooks that littered his battered battle armor. Nothing was more important than his youngling's well-being and no one was going to touch the little bot ever again. Ironhide wouldn't allow it. Never again would he permit those Pit-slagging Decepticons to hurt his precious youngling. Bumblebee was his to protect, and it was his call who was allowed to watch the tiny bot.

"Shush, my little one," cooed Ironhide, his thick fingers tenderly lulling the tiny bot into slumber, "I'm right here."

Bumblebee purred happily, instinctively leaning into his guardian's tender fingers as his small frame gradually slipped into recharge. All thoughts of meeting the big arrivals faded, replaced by fuzzy memories of his guardian holding him during his earliest sparkling vorns. A great warmth enveloped Bumblebee when he remembered those vorns, a feeling of deep love and contentment overwhelming his tiny spark as he finally slipped into a deep slumber.

"No one's ever going to hurt you again," whispered Ironhide, his plasma cannons instinctively pulsing with warmth in response to the youngling's snuggling frame. "You just go back to sleep now, you hear?"

The quiet purrs of his youngling alerted Ironhide to the fact that he had managed to prevent a temper tantrum of epic proportions from taking place yet again. Bumblebee had been a complete and utter brat over the past few orns, and Ironhide didn't think that he could deal with another fit this early in the morning. He loved Bumblebee dearly, but there were times when the little bot simply wore him down to his last fuse. And Ironhide was definitely on one of his last fuses at the moment.

"What would I do without you, little one?" Ironhide whispered, his thick fingers softly stroking the youngling's faceplates. The mere thought of waking up one morning without his bubbly Bumblebee there to greet him nearly made Ironhide sick to his tanks. He was perhaps as dependent on the youngling as Bumblebee was on him. Every single time he was sent on a mission, parting with his youngling and leaving the tiny minibot in another mech's care became harder and harder for Ironhide to cope with.

Especially now that Bumblebee had almost been taken from him forever.

No longer was Ironhide's life defined by war, but by the tiny being that was sleeping in his massive, cannon-totting arms.

He could still to this orn remember the overwhelming sensation of having the tiny bot cradled inside his carrying hold, Bumblebee's tiny fingers and tender lil' face pressed against his spark casing. Ironhide's protective instincts had increased ten-fold from the moment that Bumblebee was first placed in his carrying hold. The feel of the youngling's tiny spark vibrating against his own ancient, war-hardened one had been an awe-inspiring experience for the brusque ol' mech.

And it was at that moment that Ironhide realized that never again would he trust another mech to properly care for this tiny being that was sleeping right next to his own pulsing spark. He may have allowed his fellow Autobots to watch over Bumblebee for short periods of time; but at the end of the orn, the youngling was always brought back to him before recharge time began. Only the tough-and-tumble-cannon-totting-and-planet-blowing Ironhide was permitted to make the final decisions in regards to Bumblebee's delicate life.

After all, Optimus Prime _**had**_ personally chosen Ironhide to protect the last youngling.

And by Primus, Ironhide _**would**_ defend the tiny bot until _every **last**_ molecule of his rebellious spark was absorbed by the Matrix. After all, how could he **_ever_** deny such a precious and fragile being?

And it was with that last thought that Ironhide warily settled himself into a more comfortable position and shifted Bumblebee into the crook of his left arm, instinctively allowing the tiny bot to use his plasma-warmed cannon as a pillow. And it was _**only**_ with his precious little youngling recharging soundly within his protective arms that allowed Ironhide to finally descend into a deep slumber himself.

* * *

_A few joors later…_

Bumblebee gazed at the passing stars with mild fascination, his tiny frame held up by one of his guardian's immense missile launchers as he strode down the corridors. The hallways of the battleship fanned out into an intersection just down from the medical bay, allowing for a sentry to see in all directions on the level they were assigned to patrol. And Ironhide used this handy set-up to locate Bumblebee's morning babysitter so that he could head down to the brig for his first shift of the orn.

How thrilling…

The heavy footsteps of the weapons specialist resonated throughout the rec room after he entered through the towering double doors, one arm full of youngling whilst the other one carried said youngling's ornly energon supply. Ironhide closely monitored what his little charge ingested, careful not to allow Bumblebee to consume any type of fuel that would overload his undeveloped intake systems. The last thing Ironhide needed right now was to have a sick youngling on his hands.

A sick youngling was **_never _**a healthy state of affairs for a hard-working guardian.

Ironhide ignored the other mechs in the room, his piercing optics scanning every corner for the bot that had been scheduled to watch Bumblebee that morning. He did not want to miss another opportunity to interrogate the Decepticons that Warpath and his unit had captured in the outermost sectors of Beta Nebulae. Ironhide could feel his plasma cannons pulse with eager anticipation. He couldn't wait to slam one of the slagging 'Cons into the wall and ram his missile launcher into its disgusting face and—

"Blue!!"

The youngling squirmed in Ironhide's arms, excitedly reaching out for the young gunner who was sitting across the room playing chips with Smokescreen and Streetwise. Bluestreak instantly abandoned the board game and walked over to greet his favorite lil' buddy by picking him up and throwing him into the air a few times. Bumblebee squealed in delight, giggling when Ironhide released a loud snort and reprimanded Bluestreak like he always did whenever he brought the youngling to the talkative gunner for his shift of babysitting duties.

"How many times have I told you _**not**_ to throw him like that!" reprimanded the weapons specialist, his exasperated words falling on deaf receptors yet again. "I swear, if you _**ever**_ drop him…"

"Don't worry so much, 'Hide," said the young gunner whilst situating Bumblebee atop his broad shoulders, "I'd never ever let anything happen to our sweet lil' Bumblebee, now would I? After all, who would I play with on— "

"Oh for Primus' sake, just mute it and get out of here already," grumbled Ironhide whilst roughly shoving the cubes of low-grade energon into the young mech's arms. The colossal black weapons specialist gave his youngling one last affectionate stroke of the receptors before turning to leave the rec room. However, right before the doors closed the titanic mech turned around and reminded the younger mech to, "Have him back inside by third-shift for his ornly examination, understand? And if I have to come looking for him, Blue, you're gonna become twin-bait, you got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"So," said Bumblebee, eager to be out from under his overprotective guardian's watchful optics for a few joors, "What are we gonna do? Can we go outside? Or down to the lower decks? Or what about the outdoor shooting range? Please? I promise to be real quiet and good! Or maybe even the outer— "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," interrupted Bluestreak as he exited the rec room, his audio receptors struggling to keep up with the youngling's endless babble, "Cool the jets there, lil' buddy, give a bot time to process, okay?"

"Yo, Blue!! Wait up!!"

The talkative gunner was greeted by the ever energetic Jazz, both the twins and Blaster not too far behind as they signed off from their nightly guard shifts. The little bot squeaked in excitement and eagerly reached out for Sunstreaker to pick him up, giggling in delight when the towering warrior mech snatched him from atop the younger mech's shoulders and threw him up into the air a few times. Not even the spiteful and psychotic Sunstreaker could resist the youngling's imploring baby blue optics for more than a few astroseconds.

"Where ya takin' the lil' bot?" asked Jazz, his energy level going through the roof as they walked towards the large, outdoor firing range. Despite the outpost's location and relative lack of Decepticon activity, it without a doubt had one of the largest and most well equipped firing ranges that the Autobots had ever had the pleasure of blowing holo-'Cons up in. Even Ironhide had been impressed, which was a rare feat in and of itself these orns.

"Not to where you're thinking," replied Bluestreak, his optics refusing to look out over the expansive firing range that lay just outside the towering bay windows. "The last thing I need right now is get onto Ironhide's slag-list."

The twins made little noises that caused the young gunner's receptors to swivel in frustration, not at all thrilled by his own comrades willingness to disobey the short-tempered, trigger-happy, and extremely-over-protective weapons specialist's orders. After all, if anything happened to Bumblebee, who was going to be blamed: poor, talkative, unsuspecting Bluestreak.

"Come on, Blue, you're the best shot out of all of us," argued Blaster, pointing at the young sniper's shoulder-mounted rifle, "And we'll just keep Bee in the viewing box the entire time. He'll be hundreds of meters away from any shots that we set off." Every few seconds Bumblebee would add an affirmative click, promising to behave and not move his little skidplate from the view box seats. "See, Blue, nothing will happen to the lil' bot as long as one of us is with him."

_**"No."**_

And with that said, the young Autobot sharpshooter snatched the youngling from his comrade's arms and proceeded to march down the adjoining hallway. Unfortunately, he was too preoccupied with the squirming bundle of yellow wires in his arms to notice the four sets of narrowed optics that stared after him.

* * *

_A few breems later…_

"Ironhide's gonna kill me," groaned Bluestreak, his optics fixed on the little bot sitting next to him in the firing range view box. "My life is officially over."

"Look at what Sunny jus' did, Blue!!" squealed Bumblebee, his little frame all over the place as he bounced from seat to seat. "Look, look!!"

"Yes, I see, Bumblebee," sighed Bluestreak.

"What about that one? Did you see that one?!"

"Yes, I did, lil' buddy."

"'Hide's cannons make bigger explosions though, right?"

"Yes, much bigger ones, Bee."

"Then how come 'Hide won't bring me down here?"

"Because you could easily get hurt," explained Bluestreak whilst snatching the lil' bot from his vantage point against the viewing glass, "And Ironhide doesn't want to take that kind of risk ever again."

"But Jazz said I'd be safe as long as I stayed in here," responded Bumblebee, his little arms gesturing to the heavy steel walls surrounding them.

"Not even these thick walls are idiot-proof, lil' buddy," said Bluestreak, his optics glancing around anxiously as the twins continued to fire upon a group of holo-'Cons just to their right side. "I actually think that it would be best if we went back— "

"Look, Blue!! It's the big bots!!"

"The big what?"

"The big bots," repeated Bumblebee, his tiny frame struggling to get out of the older mech's unyielding arms. "Look, right over there."

Bluestreak almost felt his spark freeze in his chest at the sight of the five colossal mechs that were walking towards the firing range with four of their smaller comrades at their sides. The young gunner recognized the bright orange, green and yellow, magenta, and dark blue forms as being some of the more trigger-happy of the new arrivals from the Autobot base of Vector Sigma.

Hot Rod, Springer, Arcee, and Whirl were their names.

They had been introduced shortly after Bumblebee's little tantrum in the main conference room a few orns ago. That had been a rather interesting experience for all parties involved. Especially since most of the new arrivals had not seen a living, breathing youngling for well over two hundred vorns.

Nevertheless, Bluestreak could handle those bots no problem. It was the other five mechs he was more than a little worried about.

The Dynobots.

Bluestreak would have fought his comrades to the death if he had known that the Dynobots would be coming down for target practice any time within the orn. He did not even want to think about what Ironhide's reaction to this particular situation would be if he wasn't busy interrogating those Pit-slagging 'Cons in the brig.

To say the least, Blue wanted to get out of this hazardous situation as quickly as possible. Especially with lil' Bumblebee cradled in his arms, in the middle of the firing range, with a group of new, unfamiliar mechs walking towards them with their laser rifles and missile launchers at the ready.

Not a very good combination. Not at all.

_Primus,_ thought Bluestreak, his grip tightening on the tiny bot in his burly arms, _Ironhide is going to kill me.

* * *

_

I am **_SO _**sorry about how long it has taken me to update. I have been extremely busy with school & trying to meet all of the qualifications to enter into this new medical program that my school is offering, which would help me tremendously to get accepted into an excellent pre-veterinary school. But I hope that this little chapter will make up for my recent busy schedule. And I hope it doesn't seem to be too cutesy, but if it is, blame it on the Christmas spirit that has taken over my body throughout the past few weeks. I hope this chapter lives up to everyone's expectations!! And I would like to wish everyone a Very Merry Christmas!!


	13. Chapter XIII : Dynobots

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

Thank you to everyone that has been patiently waiting for this new chapter. I have had a miserable and very frustrating last few weeks. My schoolwork has shifted into overdrive and my computer decided to crash on me whilst I was writing a term paper. To say that I was upset was an understatement. But the good news is that I was accepted into a medical program that I have been trying to get into for the past few months. And you guys get this lovely chapter. Thank you.

I would like to thank everyone who was kind enough to take time out of their lives to draw pictures of my stories. I never expected for anyone to like my stories enough to draw pictures of them. Especially TaintedTamer, your picture was wonderful and I simply loved it. I would like to give you an extra big thank you in case my message did not reach you. Who knows with my stupid computer. I am honored that someone has enjoyed my stories enough to want to draw pictures of them. Thank you.

**_P.S. - _**I reposted this chapter because a significant amount of it was missing and for some reason the site was saying that there was no chapter there. I just noticed this and was advised to repost the chapter. It would seem that this site and my computer do not get along too well. Or it may just be the site.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter XIII - Dynobots

* * *

The towering hallways of the infamous Autobot battleship _Artemis I _were droning with noise as the morning shifts exchanged data-chips with the afternoon mechs. Most of the ship's inhabitants could be found in the rec room where they gathered their ornly cube of energon before returning to their posts. None of them noticed the chaos that was now brewing just outside the hangar's doors… 

"This orn cannot get any worse," groaned Bluestreak, his optics fixed on the approaching figures from across the firing range, "'Hide is going to use me for target practice, I just know it. What did I ever do to deserve such a cruel fate?"

Another sigh.

"I'm a nice mech, aren't I? I do my shifts without a single complaint." The sniper sighed before continuing, "Frag, I even do **_other_** mech's shifts without complaint if their having a really bad orn. Why me? This isn't fair, why can't..."

"Blue," squeaked Bumblebee, his tiny arms and legs flailing in the tight grip of his rapidly rambling caretaker, "I can't breathe…"

"Whoops, sorry, little buddy."

The youngling simply ignored his restless caretaker and continued to watch the strange mechs approach from across the firing range. The twins, Blaster, and Jazz were standing with rigid posture, weapons poised at their sides as if they were ready to take on the entire Decepticon Army. Bumblebee really didn't understand what the big deal was…

And that was why Bumblebee smacked Bluestreak on the side of the faceplates and leapt out of his surprised arms. "Bumblebee?!?!" It took less than two astroseconds for the tiny bot to scurry out the door of the viewing box and into the heart of the firing range. "Come back here this instant!!"

No sooner was Bumblebee out the doors before a pair of rough, unfamiliar hands grabbed him by the back of his neck and yanked him high up into the air. Bumblebee did not recognize the feel of these careless hands and immediately made his displeasure known with a high-pitched scream.

"Bumblebee!!"

The mech that held Bumblebee snorted in frustration and gave him a rough shake in order to stop his irritating cries. Unfortunately, that thoughtless action only proved to make the situation worse and caused the minibot to release another series of intense wails. The tactless mech simply continued to shake the loud youngling even when the roars of its caretakers could be approaching from across the range.

"Give him to me," boomed a voice from behind the mech. "You're going to kill it."

Bumblebee was thrown into the other mech's arms, his small frame beginning to quiver from both the exertion of his cries and the fear that gripped his tiny spark. And it was the dark red optics that gazed at him that caused Bumblebee to scream for his caretakers with a fervor unlike any he had ever felt before in his young life.

"Sunny!! Sides!!"

The Decepticon Seekers were soon tackled from behind, the fists of one fragged-off guardian smashing into the back of Starscream's head. Anger and fear pulsed through Bluestreak's spark, compelling him to attack the two Seekers that he had seen appear out of thin air. Bumblebee's terrified cries had fuelled him with a white-hot rage unlike any he had ever felt before, and the need to protect the youngling had completely overridden any feelings of hesitation he might have felt towards the situation.

"Let him go!!" snarled Bluestreak, his fingers digging cruelly into the small crevice of sensitive joints in his enemy's arm. "Or else I'll rip your arm off, Starscream!!"

BOOM!!

Another Cybertronian jet descended from the darkening sky and fired at least a half dozen missiles upon the Autobots. The young gunner immediately leapt forward and used his own frame to protect the youngling from the heat of the blast. Unfortunately, Skywarp and Starscream decided to use the temporary chaos to their advantage and it did not take long before Bluestreak was thrown into a nearby ditch.

"Blue!!" cried Bumblebee, "You hurt him!! Why?!"

The tiny bot began to kick and scream with renewed fervor, his little hands grasping at Starscream's wrist in a vain attempt to free himself. Bumblebee had been thrown, kicked, and almost stepped on more times than he could count in the past few orns, and he was sick and tired of it. So, in true youngling style, Bumblebee unleashed a series of screams that could have easily shattered any Decepticon's sensitive audio receptors.

**_"Let me go!!_** _**Let me go!!"**_

"Shut it up, Star!" growled Skywarp, his head throbbing from when the Autobot gunner had stepped on it. The minibot's incessant screaming and hollering wasn't helping the violent drum of his audio receptors either. "The fraggin' thing's gonna cause both of our receptors to blow!"

**_"AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!"_**

"You slaggin' glitch!!" snarled Starscream, shifting the wailing youngling out of the way of his fellow 'Con's hands, "Do you have any idea how fragile younglings are? Megatron said that he wants it online!"

"Sunny!!"

"I'm comin', Bee!" shouted Sunstreaker as he struggled to fend off Ramjet and Thundercracker. "Hold on, lil' buddy!"

The sound of the battleship's hangar doors opening echoed over the roar of gun-fire, alerting the Decepticons to the impending arrival of Autobot troops. And the very last thing Starscream wanted to deal with was a fragged-off Optimus Prime or his bloodthirsty weapons specialist.

"Hurry your aft up, Skywarp!!" snarled Starscream. "Primus, can't you do anything on your own?!"

Bumblebee screamed in absolute terror and desperation when he felt the gray 'Con begin to transform into his alternate form as a Cybertronian jet. He didn't want to go with these mean bots! Where was 'Hide? The little bot wanted to see his guardian so much that it hurt, his tiny fuel tanks churning with a mind-numbing fear unlike any he had ever felt before in his young life.

"Ya Pit-fraggin' bitch!!" roared the yellow twin, his midnight blue optics becoming speckled with brilliant red flecks when he saw the youngling dangling from Starscream's careless hand. He released a vicious snarl and ripped Ramjet's arm right out of its socket when the other 'Con attempted to stop him from getting to the youngling. "I'm gonna rip ya limb from limb!!

However, Sunstreaker was not the first Autobot to get to the little one…

Without any prior warning, Starscream was ruthlessly tackled mid-transformation by an immense form from behind as another huge figure swiped at his hands from directly overhead. A callous hand wrapped around the Seeker's wrist and jammed ruthless fingers into the sensitive joints and circuits that controlled the motor circuitry of his right arm. It was only a few moments before Bumblebee was released and plummeted towards the hard earth below.

The tiny bot immediately closed his teary optics and prepared for an impact that he knew would probably mangle his undeveloped first-frame legs. However, that fatal impact never came and Bumblebee released a quiet squeak when he felt an enormous hand wrap around his small frame.

"Wrong move, whiny bitch!!" snarled the gravelly voice of the Dynobot leader, his left hand pinning the 'Con to the ground whilst his right arm cradled the tiny bot against his burly chestplate. "Me Grimlock not like how you treat tiny one! Me Grimlock rip you apart!"

"Grimlock!" yelled Arcee's feminine voice, "Get the youngling away from him!"

The Dynobot leader glowered down at the Decepticon with hate-filled optics, the desire to crush the other mech's spark with his own hands nearly overwhelming the huge Autobot. Nevertheless, the feel of a tiny face burrowing into his thick chestplate stopped him from deactivating the other mech right then and there. Even a being as unfeeling and cruel as Grimlock knew that killing another mech in front of a youngling could forever traumatize the tiny minibot.

"Me Grimlock deal with you later," promised the huge mech, allowing Slag and Sludge to take his place atop the Seeker whilst Swoop and Snarl went off to help their fellow Autobots across the firing range. "Tiny one more important." Grimlock looked at the small form cradled in his bulky arm, "You okay, tiny one?"

Bumblebee squeaked in fright when the huge mech poked him in the head.

"Why tiny one not uncurl?" pondered Grimlock.

"Because the _tiny one_ is scared out of his little processor," snapped Arcee whilst jogging over and stopping in front of her towering comrade. She gracefully grabbed hold of Grimlock's hip joint and vaulted up onto his other arm, her optics locked on the small bot. "It's alright, hun'," she soothed, running tender fingers over the youngling's shaking head, "You're safe now. Ol' Grimy here got rid of those nasty 'Cons."

"More Decepticons incoming!!" shouted Blaster as he helped Bluestreak out of the ditch that he had been thrown into moments ago. "We need back-up now!!"

"Watch out!!"

Grimlock quickly grabbed Arcee and used his thick frame to shield her and the tiny bot in his arms, crouching low to the ground when over a half dozen missiles rained down upon them. He could hear the familiar spinning sound of rotor blades as Whirl took to the sky alongside Swoop whilst Hot Rod and Springer collided with another pair of big 'Cons that were attacking from behind.

"Roll, Grimlock!!" shouted Arcee, her optics spotting an incoming Seeker. "Roll!!"

The massive Dynobot easily scooped the smaller femme and youngling into his left arm and rolled out of the way as Ramjet smashed head-first into the ground. Arcee fired at another Decepticon who tried to get close to the pair, her arrow extinguishing the gigantic mech's spark. Arcee's optical scans buzzed again and she whirled around whilst effortlessly taking off another drone's head. Yet another one appeared not even a moment later.

"These things just don't know when to roll over and die," she growled, knotching another arrow in her bow. "Oh well, I was in need of some target practice anyways."

The drones were easy enough for the small sniper to deal with whilst her other comrades contended with the Seekers. However, it was the huge mech that descended from the skies and landed before the two Autobots that truly caused a ripple of fear to pulse through the field…

"Megatron."

The Decepticon Lord regarded the titanic mech in front of him, surprised that the fearsome and cruel leader of the Dynobots stood amidst his older brother's less murderous troops. Grimlock's blatant contempt towards Optimus Prime's leadership was well-known amongst all Cybertronians. Megatron did not understand why the bloodthirsty mech would willingly take orders from his brother. It simply did not make sense...

A flash of bright yellow against dark black…

Megatron smirked, his jagged teeth glinting in the faint light. He had found what he had came for, and it was nearly within his grasp.

"Give me the youngling and I'll call my troops off immediately," said Megatron, his blood red optics fixed on the tiny yellow bundle of wires that was cradled against the Dynobot's heavy chassis. "My brother and his Autobots will crumble beneath your feet without their precious youngling. Imagine the power you could possess…"

"No, don't listen to him, Grimlock," pleaded Arcee, her spark racing with fear and apprehension when she saw her colossal comrade's unyielding stance shift right before her optics. "It's just a bunch of lies, he'll just..."

"Silence, femme!!"

Arcee glared at the Decepticon Lord with hateful optics, her petite form shifting in response to the larger mech's own movements. Grimlock's lust for power and control was always a source of contention between him and her fellow Autobots. And she feared that Megatron's proposition and promises may just be too tempting for the Dynobot leader to resist. Grimlock would not have been the first Autobot to fall for the Decepticon Lord's empty promises.

"They possess soft sparks," continued Megatron, "And it would only be a matter of time before you could take advantage of this and seize the Matrix from my foolish and sentimental brother."

"Think about the youngling, Grimlock," said Arcee, gripping her comrade's hand in desperation to convince him of her plight, "He would never survive!"

"The vast power that you would wield would be unlike any ever seen before in this universe," interrupted the mighty 'Con, "Think of the possibilities of what a mech such as yourself could do with such power."

Bright red optics danced with a sinister light that made Arcee's fuel tanks churn with an intense and very real fear for the tiny mech who was quivering and crying in her comrade's arms. If she had to fight to the death to protect the youngling, then so be it.

"It's a very simple proposition, my friend…"

Arcee shook her head in disbelief and backed away from her comrade, more than ready to attack the Dynobot leader if she was left with no other choice. Despite all of the extensive emotional and mental training she had undergone, the preprogramming that she possessed in regards to younglings overrode every chip in her processor and compelled her to protect the little bot at all costs. The youngling was her foremost concern and she would do anything to keep him from falling into Decepticon hands.

Even fighting against someone who, despite his nit-witted and barbaric demeanor, had become one of her closest friends.

"And all you have to do is give me the youngling."

Grimlock gazed at the Decepticon Lord with unreadable optics, his blood red visor masking his emotions and causing his femme comrade to tense with cold anxiety. The presence of the other mechs on the battlefield seemed almost forgotten, the sound of explosions and gunfire fading into the background as he gazed down at the tiny youngling who curled into his heavily armored chassis.

"Grimlock…" pleaded Arcee's soft voice.

The Dynobot leader's optics narrowed when the femme's pleading voice reached his auditory receptors. Arcee was one of the few Autobots who treated him and the other Dynobots like real mechs. Grimlock was not stupid, he had heard the comments that many of his fellow Autobots made behind his back. He was no Perceptor or Wheeljack by any means, but Grimlock was definitely _not_ stupid.

However, Grimlock was _**very**_ good at making others underestimate him.

And although there were many things that Grimlock did not like, what he disliked the most was seeing one of his close comrades or Dynobots get hurt. And he could clearly hear in Arcee's voice that she was hurting. And Grimlock had a pretty good idea of what was hurting his little femme friend. And if there was one thing that Grimlock did not like to see, well…

Grimlock did **_not_** like seeing Arcee upset.

The towering mech glared at the Deception Lord, his visor glowing bright red as he turned to shield the quivering youngling completely from his enemy's optical view. Grimlock was a very possessive mech and did not like when someone tried to take away what was his and only his, no matter that person's opinion. And his Arcee obviously cared a great deal about this little youngling, so that meant that Grimlock cared about him too.

_**"No."**_

The Decepticon Lord did not have time to process the other mech's reply before Grimlock was upon him, his brutal hands free of baggage after having deposited the tiny minibot into Arcee's waiting arms. The femme wasted no time in protecting her precious cargo and immediately took refuge between Sludge's massive legs. She watched with anxious optics as the Dynobots and Seekers viciously collided in an epic battle of blood and carnage. Sludge crouched down low against an nearby outcrop and shielded Arcee and the youngling from violence around them.

"Thank you, Sludge," said Arcee, cradling the hysterical youngling tightly in her arms as Slag ripped through an assembly of drones. Arcee herself cringed at the ruthless fighting style of the aloof Dynobot, pressing the youngling's tiny head into the crook of her neck in a vain attempt to shield him from the carnage of battle. "I'll need you to help me, Sludge," explained Arcee, "I can't fight with the youngling in my arms."

"Me protect you, Arcee," boomed Sludge's baritone voice. "No one hurt you or the tiny one."

Arcee quietly shushed the little bot, his little hands curling into fists along her neck as he continuously cried out for his guardian and other caretakers. The sniper attempted to comfort the youngling as best she could, desperately wishing that the menacing black form of Bumblebee's guardian would come walking over the fiery horizon. But the only ebony form that she could see was the titanic silhouette of Grimlock as he fearlessly battled the Decepticon Lord across the firing range.

"'Hide!!" screamed the youngling, his tiny face streaked with bright blue tears as the magenta femme moved along with the hulking Dynobot. "'Hide!! Optimus!!"

"Bumblebee!!"

The petite femme peeked out from behind Sludge's legs and caught sight of the rapidly approaching forms of the Autobot twins. The golden twin released a primal cry and viciously grabbed hold of a drone's head, ripping the cranial unit right off of broad shoulders as he and his brother fought their way over to the youngling and his current protectors.

"Bee!!" cried Sideswipe, skidding to a halt in front of the Dynobot and reaching in to tenderly caress the youngling's tiny head. "Primus, I thought for sure they'd gotten you, little buddy."

"Sides," whimpered Bumblebee, immediately reaching out to his familiar caretaker. "Please..."

"No, lil' buddy," said Sideswipe, ducking down low as Sunstreaker ripped another drone to shreds that dared get too close, "You're safer with Arcee, okay? But both me an' Sunny will be right here from now on, okay, buddy?"

"I've got him, don't worry," reassured Arcee, her grip on the youngling tightening even more so, if that were even possible. "I won't let anything happen to him."

Sideswipe nodded his thanks, whispering a quiet, "Thank you," before returning to the battle alongside his twin brother.

Bumblebee whimpered in the femme's arms, his head burrowing into the crook of her neck as the vicious roars of the Dynobot leader and the Decepticon Lord reached their auditory receptors. Sludge had created a barricade with his own body against the outcrop whilst the twins, Slag, and Snarl took their positions as guards around the huge Dynobot.

The sound of Grimlock's primal roar alerted the femme to his transformation, her spark quivering in its casing as she pictured her friend's violent metamorphosis in her processor. Grimlock's alternate form was terrifying, but it was the intense bloodlust that he experienced when in that form that caused even the most loyal of his comrades to retreat in fear for their lives. Arcee felt Sludge shift above her, his own booming roar matching that of his commander's almighty cry as three more bellows resounded from far across the battlefield. The vicious roars caused the sparks of all present to quake with terror as the bloodthirsty Dynobot commander squared off against the Lord of the Decepticons.

It had been quite some time since Grimlock had fought a worthy adversary.

The femme watched with wide optics as the Dynobot commander rose to his full height and bared serrated teeth at Megatron, an almighty roar escaping his throat as he crouched down low to the ground. Red optics glowed eerily in the darkening light, the huge reptilian-mech's thick jaws hissing in anticipation as he circled his equally intimidating opponent. He could sense the other mech's energon flow and spark, the tantalizing energy causing his optics to dilate with bloodlust as Megatron swiped at the Autobot with elongated claws. Grimlock easily evaded the swipe, stepping back and using his powerful legs as leverage to swing around and smash his enemy against the side with his thick tail.

Grimlock wanted blood. And lots of it.

The youngling whimpered in fright when the two titanic beings collided with one another, their ferocious roars and the violent tremors that shook the ground causing the tiny mech to quiver in absolute terror. Bumblebee squeaked when the femme tightened her arms around him, his young spark soaking in the comforting glow that her own naturally have off when in the youngling's presence. He eagerly burrowed into the crook of her neck, his entire frame curling into a tight little ball in Arcee's protective arms. The warm glow of her spark lulled him into a semi-content state, Bumblebee's continuous cries for his guardian tapering off as he realized that silence would more than likely ensure his survival in the coming breems.

It was a cold realization, to say the least.

Arcee watched as her comrade fought the cruelest tyrant that had ever existed upon their homeworld. She could feel another presence, a dark presence, reaching out to the youngling. She repelled it with a vehement jolt, her instinctive reaction colliding with the cold aura of the mech that had attempted to connect to Bumblebee. Arcee bristled in defiance, pushing the strange mech away through the bond that she naturally shared with the youngling.

_I don't care who you are_, thought Arcee, Y_ou are _not_ going to hurt him!!_

The femme glared at the towering form of the Decepticon Lord, his mere presence making her tremble with both fear and rage. She did not understand why he was so adamant in his quest to capture the youngling, but she sure as Pit was not going to allow him to touch the tiny mech ever again.

"I've got you, little one," whispered Arcee, her fingers running soothingly over the youngling's head, "I'll protect you. I promise…"

* * *

I would like to thank everyone for being patient with me. My computer decided to crash late one evening in mid-January when I was right in the middle of writing a term paper. I was so upset that I was crying. I'm really sorry if this chapter is not quite up to par with some of my previous ones. I attempted to rewrite the chapter, but I think that I messed up on quite a few parts of it. So I'm really sorry if I completely butchered the Dynobots or Arcee, who's based off of the 2007 movie version that was never used, and you can just let me know if it's too bad and I'll try my best to revise it. I apologize again. Thank you for reading and I hope that this chapter somewhat lives up to your expectations!! 


	14. Chapter XIV : Sunstreaker

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

This is simply going to be a story of fluffy thoughts that pop into my head, so it probably won't be as structured as my other stories. And I would like to give an extra-big thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review my new story Sparkling. And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.

And I would like to give a huge thank you to Middernacht for drawing a beautiful and very realistic picture of baby Bumblebee for me. If anyone would like to see it, go to her page on Deviantart and check it out. It's amazing.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter XIV - Sunstreaker

* * *

The air outside of the titanic Autobot battleship, _Artemis I_, was thick with smoke and burning flames as the battle between Autobot and Decepticon raged on. Large craters dotted the once flat ground and many of the solid targets that were scattered throughout the range now lie in pieces upon the scorched soil. However, it was not the fighters doing battle that were the focus of this bloody ambush. The true focus of the ambush was curled tightly in the arms of a fiercely determined femme...

"Hush, little one," cooed Arcee, her desperate attempts to soothe the youngling failing miserably as Bumblebee continued to scream at the highest decibel levels possible. "We need to move now, Sludge! Hurry!"

The little mech had been fine until Megatron's Pit-fragging hounds had showed up.

"'Hide!!" cried Bumblebee, his tiny frame shaking from the sheer force of his sobs, "Optimus!! 'Hide!!"

"It's okay, Bee!" reassured Sunstreaker's familiar voice whilst he sliced through another pair of drones who drew too close to the youngling's position. "We're right here!"

"Sunny!" whimpered the youngling, his baby blue optics watching as the golden mech unsheathed a pair of blades from his wrists and plunged them into the chassis and head of another drone. "Sunny! Sunny!"

"Quiet, little one," soothed Arcee, gently pressing the tiny mech's face into the side of her neck in an attempt to shield him from the carnage, "Don't look, sweetheart. It'll all be over soon."

Bumblebee squeaked in terror, his tiny frame quivering from the sounds that were passing into his auditory receptors. He wanted to feel Optimus' blazing spark so badly that it hurt, but all he could feel around him was darkness. A deep, abysmal, yawning darkness that the little mech had come to recognize within the past few orns.

Megatron.

But it was not Megatron's presence which frightened Bumblebee. No, the yellow minibot no longer feared the demon-like mech who had gradually become a very familiar aura in his own spark, much like Optimus had all those vorns ago when Bumblebee was nothing more than a helpless sparkling. It was the other Decepticons who were under the huge lord's command who truly frightened the youngling.

Bumblebee could feel that Megatron had no intentions to harm him. But the little mech did not wish to be taken away from his familiar and loving caretakers, so the logical choice of action in Bumblebee's young processor was to escape from the Decepticon Lord by any means possible. And albeit Bumblebee was curious about how he was connected to Megatron, he did not want to be separated from Optimus Prime or Ironhide or any of his other loyal guardians.

And even if Megatron had no intentions of harming him, who was to say that the other scary mechs felt the same way towards a shrieking bundle of wires. None of them seemed to be very paternal and Bumblebee preferred to keep all of his limbs intact. The medics onboard _Artemis I_ were always telling him that he had to be careful when he was around strangers, right? And Bumblebee did not feel like getting a lecture from Ratchet, so it was probably best if he stayed out these mean 'Con's hands at all costs.

Ratchet was scary when he was angry, especially when a wrench or spanner was within the vicinity. Ironhide had the dents to prove it. And Bumblebee liked his paintjob too much to jeopardize getting scratches on it.

Sunny would be upset with him if that happened again.

Metallic sunburst yellow was an expensive paint color.

"Seekers incoming!" shouted Sideswipe. "C'mon, bro!"

Bumblebee watched as two familiar forms emerged from the smoke and helped the twins tackle a pair of Seekers that had attempted to attack from overhead. Silverbolt and Jetfire converged from one side and then collided with the 'Cons, ruthlessly dragging them to the ground so that the twins could get a piece of them as well. Unfortunately, Silverbolt was unable to effectively bring down Blitzwing and the large aerial 'Con soon unleashed a barrage of missiles upon the Autobots.

"Get down!" shouted Sideswipe, his frame along with his brother's and Jetfire's smashed down on the large Darkwing.

"Where's Fireflight?" asked Sunstreaker when Silverbolt rammed into the 'Con from the other side. The last thing they needed was for another youngling to be out on the battlefield.

"He's safe onboard the ship," answered Silverbolt.

Sludge easily moved the femme and youngling to the side, shielding them from the bulk of the explosion by placing them against a large mount of the dirt that would usually have been used as an ideal sniping spot. The huge Dynobot used his own frame as a shield and ignored the intense heat that burned at his back panels.

"That was close," whispered Arcee when Sludge gently nudged her forward so that they could continue towards the battleship. She could the twins kick the aerial 'Con to the side in distance, her optics to clouded by smoke to see whether Darkwing was still online or not.

Arcee hoped it was the latter.

"Not too far," said Sludge, his optics glowing a bright red as he scanned the vast expanse of the battlefield. "Tiny one alright?"

Arcee glanced down at the tiny mech in her arms and nodded, her voice soft and reassuring, "He's alright, big guy." She gently bounced Bumblebee a little higher up into her arms and rubbed his receptors soothingly. "Just a little scared though."

"Good," nodded Sludge, his large frame tensing not even a few moments after the twins arrived back his side, "Cause Sludge got bad feeling."

"C'mon," said Sideswipe, his red armor laced with countless scratches and dents, "We've gotta move before those fraggin' Seekers converge for another assault."

"I'll take the front," ordered Sunstreaker as he passed his brother, "You take the back."

"Why do I **_always_** gotta take the back?" mumbled Sideswipe dejectedly. "Fraggin' psycho..."

The femme clutched the crying youngling close to her chassis, following her large comrade through the battlefield whilst the twins provided front and back cover. However, it was the sudden appearance of Megatron's computer that made Arcee's spark freeze in its casing.

Shockwave.

"No", whispered Arcee, gazing up at the towering purple Decepticon computer and his drone followers from between Sludge's thick legs. "This cannot be happening."

"Relinquish the youngling and none of you will be harmed," spoke the monotone voice. "Lord Megatron wishes for nothing more than the youngling. Resistance will only bring more death unto your troops."

Bumblebee whimpered in abject terror and clutched at the femme's chassis, his tiny frame starting to shake uncontrollably when he heard the enormous Decepticon's cold and calculating voice.

It was scarier than any other voice Bumblebee had ever heard before in his life.

_'Hide..._ the youngling thought, fresh tears streaming down his faceplates when he heard the sound of crunching earth, _Optimus..._

The trembling of the ground alerted the youngling to the arrival of Shockwave's faithful drones, the odds quickly stacking up against the Autobots that were so valiantly risking their own lives to protect his young one. Bumblebee merely pressed his face even further into Arcee's chassis and wrapped his tiny arms tightly around her neck, her warm spark the only form of reassurance the youngling had left.

_I'm scared._

"I don't think so, ya Pit-fraggin' bitch," snarled Sunstreaker, immediately placing himself between the Decepticon and his fellow Autobots, "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

* * *

_Inside Artemis I..._

The hallways of the titanic battleship were ablaze with commotion as mechs rushed through the corridors towards the eastern hangar bay. None of them dared question the stony voice of their commander as he ordered them all to report to the outdoor firing range immediately. Every mech onboard knew that their commander only spoke in such a severe tone when there was an impending Decepticon attack.

"Optimus!" yelled Ironhide, his face a mask of exasperation and frustration as he emerged from the lower levels of the brig, "What in the fraggin' Pit's going on?"

"A group of Autobots are under attack out in the firing range," said Optimus, his optics fixed on the flow of mechs that were heading into the hangar, "I sense Megatron's amongst their ranks."

Ironhide froze mid-stride as he followed his commander, dark blue optics widening as a sudden cold feeling flowed through his enormous frame. "Where's Bumblebee?"

Optimus immediately came to a stand-still and slowly turned to regard his weapons specialist, his voice a soft whisper, "I thought he was with you."

"I was scheduled for duty in the brig until third-shift," rumbled Ironhide, his whole frame stiffening as he slowly realized that he had no idea where his youngling was in this chaos, "I left him with Bluestreak until the end of the shift."

Optimus took in a series of deep breathes through his vents and stopped the next Autobot who walked by him, a shaky edge to his voice, "Have you seen Bluestreak within the past few breems?"

"No, sir," answered Smokescreen.

"Frag!" cursed Optimus, the loud slur causing quite a few of his troops to glance at him in shock and surprise. The towering mech sighed in frustration and asked again, "Has anyone seen Bluestreak?"

"I did, sir," answered Tracks, "I saw him, Jazz, the twins, and Blaster heading out to the firing range about twelve breems ago."

Optimus was barely able to even process the warrior mech's words before Ironhide had stormed down the corridor and into the eastern hangar bay. The Autobot only saw the ebony silhouette of his weapons specialist as he disappeared out of the massive hangar bay doors, his titanic plasma cannons charged to maximum-power as he prepared to rip apart any 'Con who was foolish enough to come between him and his youngling.

"Ironhide!" shouted Optimus, dashing after the irate mech and out the entranceway in an attempt to stop him, "Wait!"

No sooner was Ironhide out the hangar doors before he threw himself into the fray of battle, his huge cannons blasting apart any 'Con or drone who was stupid enough to try to get in his energon-soaked path. And despite his pacifistic approach to many situations, Optimus exhibited a violent side that was rarely seen from the Supreme Commander. But quite frankly, the only thing Optimus cared about at that moment in time was the safety of Bumblebee.

And Bumblebee was without doubt his first and foremost priority.

"This is a rarity," commented Ironhide as he ripped a drone's head clean off of its shoulders, "The great Optimus Prime willingly joining me in the thrills of battle. What would your brother think of you now?"

"Why don't we find out," snarled Optimus, his optics scanning the battlefield for any sign of his precious lil' Bumblebee. "I can feel him."

Ironhide glanced at his friend suspiciously before the sound of an almighty roar and the cracking of the ground tore his attention to the other side of the field. And it was there where he saw the leader of the Dynobots. The massive mech's silhouette could just barely be made out as he circled his opponent, his thick tail thrashing dangerously to and fro in a clear effort to keep pesky drones away.

But it was the sudden appearance of an enormous shadow from behind that caused the two Autobots to rush forward and desperately call out to their comrade.

"Grimlock!" shouted Optimus. "Behind you!"

The monstrous Dynobot whipped around, brutally locking his powerful jaws onto Tidal Wave's right arm when he attempted to grab the Autobot from behind. Grimlock's jagged teeth sunk deep into the wires and circuitry of the 'Con's thickly armored plating, his whole frame jerking backwards as he made to tear the limb from its socket. However, Megatron used the large Dynobot's distraction to his advantage and sliced into his thick tail with his claws.

However, his claws never made contact...

"You always were a dirty fighter, little brother," growled Optimus, his burly arms wrapped around the Decepticon Lord's thick torso, "But attacking another mech when his back's turned and he has been ambushed is simply dishonest, "the huge commander braced his legs against the ground and threw his brother to the side, "And low!"

Ironhide immediately went to assist Grimlock against the massive Decepticon, his cannons unleashing countless missiles upon the towering mech as his commander prepared to face his own brother in battle. The weapons specialist did not wish to get between the two vengeful siblings when they really starting going at it.

Despite popular belief, not even Ironhide was **_that_** fraggin' stupid.

But the weapons specialist was not prepared for the violent way in which the two brothers collided, their huge frames locking in a battle of strength and wills whilst scorching infernos continued to rage around them. Then again, Ironhide also was not prepared for the huge explosion that suddenly rocked the ground like an earthquake.

"What the frag was that?!" said Ironhide, turning to look off towards the west as Grimlock cracked his opponent brutally with his tail. "It couldn't have—"

The high slope of a nearby hill suddenly exploded and rubble rained down upon them, the vicious battle between the two faction leaders halting momentarily so that they could see what in the Pit was going on downwind. The familiar roar of the Autobot's most violent and psychotic warrior soon answered their questions. But it was the other mechs who poured over the hillside that truly took them by surprise.

"I'm gonna rip yer fraggin' optic out an' let Bee use it as a play-toy, ya fraggin' one-opticed bitch!!" snarled Sunstreaker whilst rolling down the hill, his fingers brutally clawing into Shockwave's throat panels. "Ya messed with the wrong youngling, ya Pit-fragger!"

The familiar forms of Sideswipe and Silverbolt soon appeared as well, both of them engaged in a battle with innumerable amounts of drones that had poured onto the battlefield. But it was the terrified expression on the femme's faceplates and her sharp screams that caused the Autobots' sparks to freeze in their casings.

"Bumblebee!!" Arcee shouted, her fingers wrapped tightly around her bow as she scoured the battlefield desperately with her optics. "Bumblebee!!"

Sludge ripped apart another drone and then collided with an incoming Seeker who had attempted to tackle the injured femme. Arcee easily evaded her comrade's large feet and continued to yell for the youngling who had been snatched from her arms and thrown into the depths of the battlefield.

Never before had Arcee been as infuriated as she was at this moment.

"Come out and fight me, you coward!" she snarled, glaring at the faint movement that she saw to her right. That bitch had dared to touch the youngling, and Arcee was going to make sure that she paid dearly for it. "Got you now, bitch..."

There was no way that she was going to allow a Decepticon to take Bumblebee right out from under her optics.

Especially a Pit-fragging Decepticon femme.

"Hello, Arcee," spoke a velvety voice that Arcee despised with every fiber of her spark.

"Nice to see you too, Flamewar."

Optimus Prime watched with wonder as the two femmes fired at one another, both dodging to the side to play a deadly game of robo-cat and glitch-mouse. The commander refocused his optics on his brother, his spark pulsing with unprecedented fear for the tiny mech that was lost out upon the battlefield. However, much to his surprise, he noticed that his brother's blood red optics were scouring the burning grounds with an anxious aura that he had not seen in thousands of vorns.

"Stop this, Megatron!" pleaded Optimus, his spark twisting with fear for the little youngling. "He cannot survive out there!"

Megatron surprised his brother yet again, his cruel expression appearing torn for a few seconds as he gazed across the burning battlefield. Bumblebee was out there all alone. And albeit Optimus did not understand this odd change that was taking place right in front of his optics, he prayed to Primus that his brother would reconsider this whole scenario and deem it too dangerous to the youngling's life.

Unfortunately, Optimus never received an answer before...

**_"AAAAHHHHHH!!" _**

The Autobot commander felt his spark literally stop pulsing in his chassis when he turned towards the piercing scream and saw the most horrifying vision thus far in his life. There on the ground, a couple hundred meters from himself and his brother, was Bumblebee, his tiny frame caught between the massive legs of Shockwave and Sunstreaker as they fought one another with energon-soaked blades.

"Bumblebee!!"

Optimus watched as the little mech narrowly avoided being crushed, his desperate attempts to crawl behind Sunstreaker's protective frame proving futile as the dark purple operations commander thwarted every one of his efforts. The youngling screamed loudly, his terrified cries obviously enraging Sunstreaker as he tried to fight the enormous 'Con whilst also attempting not to step on Bumblebee.

"Shockwave, you fool!" roared Megatron, his voice more enraged than Optimus had heard it since his defection all those vorns ago. "You're going to crush him!"

Bumblebee screamed even louder when the towering 'Con's foot smashed into the ground right next to his head, causing dirt and splinters to rain down upon the youngling. The small mech cried out to Sunstreaker, his desperate cries wrenching at the infuriated mech's spark. He had to end this. One wrong step and he would never be able to live with himself.

Sunstreaker had killed many creatures in his lifetime, but the mere thought of being the cause of Bumblebee's death...

It made him sick.

The golden twin sliced into the other mech's chassis and roared in fury, his optics burning red whenever he heard Bumblebee's terrified screams from amongst his feet. He had never felt as enraged and frightened as he had at that moment in time, the thought of misstepping and crushing the youngling frazzling his nerves faster than Sunstreaker had ever thought possible.

"Sunny!!"

The sound of Bumblebee's high-pitched scream, the crumbling of hard earth, and the suffocating silence that followed caused Sunstreaker to finally lose it. He released an almighty roar, embedding his blade deep into Shockwave's shoulder and then ruthlessly threw him to the side. Less than one astrosecond passed before he was on the ground, his hands desperately searching for the youngling that he and his comrades held so close to their sparks.

"No! No!" cried Sunstreaker, his fingers raking through the hard ground, "Bumblebee!! _**Bumblebee!!"**_

The faction commanders gazed at the crushed earth in disbelief as they halted mid-sprint, their blood red and deep blue optics locking onto the golden warrior who hollered at the ground hysterically. Neither knew what to say until they heard a smug voice speak from a short distance to the right. Dark blue optics locked with the Autobot commander's as the silver and blue mech suddenly appeared almost magically from out of thin air, three of his comrades quickly flanking him protectively on either side.

"Looking for this?"

* * *

I'm terribly sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. I started a new story called Sparkling and I wrote two chapters for it, so I guess you could say that I allowed my attention to stray. And I'm not exactly happy with this chapter, but it's action-packed so it took me a little while to write. I hope that it lives up to your expectations and thank you for reading!!

P.S. - Can anyone guess who the mysterious mech at the end is? Most of you are familiar with him.　


	15. Chapter XV : Captured

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I have been super busy over the past few months and have simply just not had time to write lately. But I would like to thank everyone who has remained loyal to this story and has taken the time to e-mail me suggestions or simply to check up on me. You all know who you are and there's simply too many of you to name, frankly, but I truly thank you for taking the time to worry about me. Thank you.

Now remember, Bumblebee may seem OOC here because he is _very _young, practically a baby-bot. This is how some of my very little cousins and much younger brother would probably act in a situation like this, so be open-minded and nice, please. Bumblebee would want that.

Youngling - Chapter XV - Captured

* * *

The atmosphere outside of the titanic Autobot battleship, _Artemis I_, was rife with death and destruction as flames scorched the grounds of the firing range. An eerie silence had fallen over one section of the battlefield, the enormous silhouettes of the two factions who were engaged in combat looming out over the vast craters that dotted the expansive battle zone. However, the bi-colored optics of the two faction leaders and the dark optics of every mech under their command were fixated on the small creature who was nestled in the protective arm of the noble Autobot spy...

"Bumblebee!!"

Tiny blue optics gazed up at the familiar regal faceplate of Mirage, his small frame curled into a tight little ball within the crook of the older mech's arm. A plasma rifle was held in the spy's other hand, the blazing muzzle trained on the nearest Decepticon. Every mech on the field had seemed to stop in mid-battle, their attention fixed on the bot who had risked his own life to save that of the youngling.

"You really should not allow such a precious valuable to run around unattended," scolded Mirage, his smooth voice smug as he regarded the Decepticons with disdain and resentment. "Many of the universe's greatest treasures have been lost as a result of such careless disregard."

"Mirage..." breathed Optimus, his normally mighty voice strained with the relief that seemed to overwhelm his huge frame. "Thank Primus..."

Bumblebee happily curled into the older mech's silver and blue chassis, reveling in the brilliant warmth that his regal spark emitted like brilliant beacons. However, without a single ounce of fear, Bumblebee peeked out from behind the espionage agent's arms and gazed at the menacing form of his more violent brother. The youngling met the blood-red optics, a somber click leaving his vocal processor as he rested his head against the chassis of his protector. His spark reached out to the demon-like mech, the darkness dissipating for a few short moments as—

BBBOOOOOMMM!!

The Autobots quickly dropped to the ground when they heard the familiar roar of _Artemis I's_ almighty engines and powerful guns. Countless missiles flew through the dark, smoky air; huge explosions shaking the earth as the Decepticons attempted to avoid their enemy's artillery fire. It took the Autobots less than an astrosecond to understand what it was their comrades were trying to tell them: make a run for the lowered hangar door while we rain missiles down on the fraggers.

"Hold on tight, little one," whispered Mirage, tightening his hold on the youngling as he activated his electro-disruptor and promptly disappeared from sight, "And be very, very quiet..."

The blue and silver spy narrowly avoided the flailing arm of Tidal Wave as the large 'Con toppled to the side, Grimlock's powerful jaws firmly embedded in the mech's shoulder. It seemed that the Dynobot commander was hungry for fish stew, if his vicious growls were any indication.

How very primitive...

Mirage moved swiftly but carefully, intent on avoiding a collision and leaving the fighting to his more bloodthirsty comrades. It appeared that Sunstreaker was making the most of this opportunity to unleash his most ruthless, psychotic persona. And for the first time in many vorns, Mirage thanked Primus that Sunstreaker was fighting _for_ them, not _against_ them.

That would have been terrifying.

Moving as fast as he knew was prudent, Mirage spared one moment to stare at the imposing forms that were the faction leaders. Optimus Prime and Megatron were locked together at the hands, their optics boring into one another as they snarled words that the spy's audio receptors could not pick up. However, Mirage much preferred not to hear the vulgar obscenities that were more than likely spewing forth from the Decepticon Lord's vocal processor. And he failed to notice the Seeker descending from above...

"Ahhh!!"

The Autobot spy was caught off guard by the falling 'Con, his frame thrown to the side as the off-line Decepticon smashed into the ground. Mirage groaned in pain when his frame collided with a high mound of dirt, bright white specks flashing in front of his optics when his head hit the hard earth. But it was the breezy air that moved between his fingers that truly terrified the blue and silver mech.

"No..." Mirage breathed, his optics focusing on the invisible digits that felt nothing within their grasp, "Bumblebee! Bumblebee!!"

Mirage pushed himself to his feet and gazed across the fiery battlefield, desperately searching for a flash of yellow with strained optics. And when he finally did locate the tiny youngling, Mirage nearly felt his regal spark freeze within its casing.

This could not be happening!!

"NNNOOO!!"

* * *

The first thought that crossed through Bumblebee's young processor was that this orn simply could not get any worse. Then again, Bumblebee was not known for being the luckiest of mechs, and such thoughts obviously were not well-received by Primus since he seemed to enjoy making the youngling's life miserable.

"Owie!!" whined the tiny mech. "My aft!!"

He was _**really**_ getting tired of being thrown all over the place! He wasn't covered in wax or Sunny's extra-shine Nuborian polish, was he? Personally, Bumblebee could not for the life of him understand why everyone was after him?! Come on, even Bumblebee himself was willing to admit that he was not the easiest bot to put up with for many, many reasons**:**

1. He slept over seventy-percent of the orn.

2. He threw decibel-shattering temper tantrums when he didn't get his own way.

3. He was a very snoopy eater and rarely took his minerals without a fight.

4. He would not recharge without Rufus. Period.

5. He constantly needed to be carried because of his pathetically tiny size.

6. He _loved_ to sneak out from underneath his babysitter's sensors.

7. He had absolutely no qualms about crying his little baby blue optics out if it got him what he wanted, when he wanted it.

8. He insisted on climbing the stairs by himselfand no, it didn't matter if they were taller than him.

9. When he wanted Ironhide, he was to be taken to Ironhide.

10. And he did not appreciate being carted and tossed around like some doll!!

The youngling ignored the sharp pain in his left arm and scrambled to the side of a nearby ditch, narrowly dodging the grasping hand of a Seeker. Bumblebee twittered at the offending limb, jamming a sharp rock into the jet's finger joints when he attempted to grab him a second time. A piercing bellow and torrent of curses echoed through the smoldering air, Thundercracker's blood-red optics locking on the tiny yellow form that was skittering across the battlefield.

"Slag head!!" hissed the youngling.

Bumblebee crawled along the side of the ditch, his little spark racing as he tried to hear over the loud explosions and zooming missiles. The infuriated shouts of that big blue Seeker encouraged him to move faster, his small arms futilely clawing at towering sides of the channel. Bumblebee screeched in anger, his entire frame buzzing with fear, frustration, and fatigue as he attempted to climb another ledge.

This wasn't fair! All he wanted was to go home!

Unfortunately, it seemed that Primus had decided to take the orn off and left the youngling to fend for himself. And this revelation was soon realized because it was not the sound of his guardian's familiar voices that resounded in Bumblebee's audio receptors, but the sharp rumble of crumbling rock. The youngling squeaked in terror, his optics fixed on the jagged pieces of earth plummeting towards him.

"NNNOOO!!"

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the high ridge crumbled beneath an onslaught of missile explosions. Bumblebee felt his small spark quiver with terror, the feel of two familiar presences suddenly invading his life source nearly overwhelming the young mech as Death stared down at him. His optics watched as the rocks descended through the air, eager to cut into the thin armor and soft wiring that his tiny frame was composed of. It was a terrifying moment and Bumblebee curled into a tight little ball, a quiet sob escaping his voice capacitor when—

"Come 'ere!!"

The youngling squeaked in surprise, a powerful force grabbing hold of his scruff-bar and swiftly yanking him into the dusty air. Bumblebee could hear the distinct sound of crumbling earth and heavy exhales in his receptors, his optics fixed on the jagged rock that seemed to be falling all around him. And the sudden drop that they took as the larger mech ascended and then descended yet another ridge to avoid the artillery that was coming from every direction.

But one thing was clear: whoever had saved the little mech was moving faster than Bumblebee had ever thought possible. Perhaps even faster than the speed of sound if those loud booms were any indication.

"AAAHHHH!!"

Bumblebee felt his tanks drop out beneath him as they leapt down another soaring ridge, the now-familiar sound of a missile colliding with the ground above causing the tiny mech to quiver with fright. This whole going up and down thing was _**really**_ starting to get old!!

"I want down!" yelled the youngling. "Let me down!! Put me down!!"

The mech simply ignored the youngling and put on another burst of speed, cutting right through the heart of the battlefield. He could hear Autobots on every side shouting at him in rage, their dark blue optics bleeding into a deep purple or speckled red. They knew this particular mech all too well and were utterly horrified to see their precious youngling dangling from his menacing jaws.

Of course, poor Bumblebee had no idea as to why they all looked so horror-struck.

"I have the youngling, Lord Megatron," hissed a velvety voice, slightly muffled by the youngling that was hanging from his jaws. He slinked out of the shadows just enough for his lord to see the tiny yellow ball, his jaguar-like frame ready to spring into action at any sign of approaching movement from the Autobots.

Bumblebee squeaked, gazing up at the huge mech whose claws were interlocked with the hands of Optimus Prime. The two faction leaders were engaged in a fierce battle, their optics locked on one another as smoke and flames billowed around them. However, the Decepticon Lord's dark red optics flickered over for a moment and met the baby blue optics of the youngling.

"It's time to end this," hissed the monstrous mech, roughly shoving his brother to the side and transforming into his alternate form. "Decepticons!! Fall back!!"

_**"Optimus!!"**_

The Autobot commander felt his spark clench with terror when his optics saw the ominous form of Ravage standing a few hundred meters away with Bumblebee dangling like a helpless robo-kitten within the Decepticon's powerful jaws. He immediately forced himself to his feet and took off towards the animalistic 'Con, his entire frame pushing as hard as possible to stop Ravage from taking off with the youngling.

His precious little Bumblebee.

He could not allow Megatron to take the youngling from him. Bumblebee was the most important thing in the entire universe to him. Optimus did not think his spark could survive knowing that Bumblebee was somewhere far away in the cold and cruel hands of the Decepticons.

Bumblebee was such a beautiful and loving youngling.

Optimus knew without a shadow of a doubt that lovable and sensitive Bumblebee would quickly wither away without the fervent love of himself and his guardians. The tiny mech was extremely dependent, to the point of being clingy at times. Ironhide rarely took overnight missions because of the sole fact that Bumblebee would go on the fritz if the old mech was not there to lull him into recharge.

No, Bumblebee was not strong enough to survive in such an environment.

Perhaps Megatron would not harm the little mech, but that certainly to did go for all of his brother's bloodthirsty and ruthlessly ambitious subordinates. Most of them would see Bumblebee as a threat. And everyone knew what Decepticons did about threats...

"Put me down!!" cried Bumblebee, squirming and wriggling in a desperate attempt to free himself. "I don't wanna go with you!! Optimus!! Optimus!!"

Unfortunately, the Decepticon's hold on the youngling's ultra-sensitive scruff-bar made it impossible for the little mech to break free. So instead he did the next best thing...

_**"AAAAHHHHHH!!"**_

The beast-like Decepticon snarled in anguish when the youngling started to scream at the top of his vocal capacitor, his lithe frame immediately launching into a run when the familiar figure of the Autobot's weapons specialist appeared to his right side. Ravage was not a fool and swiftly ran by a large outcrop that allowed him to obscure himself into the darkness of the shadows. Unfortunately, the youngling refused to be quiet no matter how much shook him.

"No!!" yelled Optimus Prime, his path suddenly blocked when another Decepticon attacked him from the side, "No!! Bumblebee!!"

Bumblebee continued to scream even after the sounds of the battlefield had begun to fade away. His small frame curled into a tight little ball when Ravage slowed down to a swift trot, wide blue optics surveying the rapidly changing surroundings. A tiny squeak of terror escaped his vocal capacitor when he realized that he was far away from his beloved guardians and _Artemis I_.

Then again, the dark hole in the ground that Ravage suddenly leapt into did not help matter either as Bumblebee got a mouthful of dirt and other inorganic matter. He let his displeasure known with a few fervent buzzes and twitters, the yellow bot's frustration more than clear as he continued to squirm and thrash in the Decepticon's unyielding jaws. Unfortunately, Ravage seemed to find his struggles beneath his level-of-care and simply ignored the youngling.

However, after a few more moments of senseless struggles, Bumblebee decided to try a different tactic...

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Could you please put me down now?"

More silence.

"I said _please_."

And more trotting through the deep, dark tunnel.

"I _**can**_ walk on my own, you know."

Even more silence.

"You're not a very nice mech, you know that?"

Trot, trot, trot.

"I wanna go home."

A small burst of light as the tunnel exit neared.

"I said..."

Bright light suddenly appearing as they enter a large room.

_**"I WANNA GO HOME!!"**_

The sound of numerous guns and plasma cannons activating could be heard around the room as Ravage suddenly entered through the miniature tunnel that led to the surface a few kilometers away. Over a dozen sets of dark red optics stared at the yellow youngling who was hanging from the Decepticon saboteur's jaws, his small frame shaking from the force of his screams. However, Bumblebee's fierce protests abruptly died down when he realized how many very mean-looking Decepticons were glaring down at him.

Bumblebee squeaked in terror, curling into himself in an effort to hide from these unfamiliar and scary-looking mechs. None of them looked very happy to see him either.

Things could not possibly get any worse!

"Well, well, well," cooed a silky voice, "What have we here?"

The youngling visibly shook as the purple and yellow femme fixed her blood-red gaze upon him, slowly sauntering over to inspect the new arrivals. However, she did not get too far before Ravage released a threatening growl, his sleek frame crouching into a defensive stance as he tightened his jaws on the youngling's scruff-bar. Bumblebee knew that this was not the time to draw attention to himself, and remained deathly quiet and limp as his captor snarled at the approaching Decepticon femme.

"Leave the microchip alone, Thunderblast," snorted Flamewar from across the room, "You don't want Ravage to scratch your new paintjob, do you?"

"Despite whatever you believe in that fritzy processor of yours," jeered Barricade, his voice holding nothing but annoyance and disgust for the scheming femme, "You're not going to impress Lord Megatron by making the youngling burst into tears at the sight of your Pit-fraggin' ugly mug."

"Frag off," hissed the other femme, completely undeterred as she reached out to grab the youngling from the other 'Con's snarling mouth, "Like you would know anything about younglings, you glitchin' slag-head! Now come here— Owww!!"

The femme glared down at the jagged scratches in her forearm panels, bright blue energon trickling out of the claw wounds. Ravage snarled furiously and maneuvered the youngling away from Thunderblast's grasping hands, darting across the room just as the thunderous steps of his commander echoed throughout the halls of the underground base.

BBBOOOOOOMMM!!

A monstrous hand ripped through the dirt wall closest to the doorway, energon-soaked claws clicking together menacingly as dark red optics surveyed the Decepticon troops in the expansive chamber. All sixteen of the mechs and femmes cowered beneath the murderous figure of their commander, none of them stupid or suicidal enough to invite their leader's infamous anger upon themselves.

"No one touches the youngling without my permission," snarled Megatron, his voice a quiet and deadly hiss as Ravage slinked in alongside him with Bumblebee hanging from his mouth much like a small kitten, "Is that understood?"

All of the Decepticons nodded their heads, too scared of the Decepticon Lord to speak out loud for fear of their lives.

Bumblebee watched the towering Decepticon Lord with wide optics, his spark naturally reaching out to the vast darkness that seemed all too familiar and comforting despite the dangerous and very life-threatening situation he was in at the moment. The youngling squeaked as he was carefully deposited into Megatron's lethal hands, his tiny frame fitting perfectly atop the wide palm as the demon-like mech's sharp claws curled around him.

It was official.

This just _**had**_ to be the worst orn of his life!!

* * *

I am **_so_** terribly sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I have been super busy, had a horrible case of poison ivy all over my body for well over a month, and now I am going in for major reconstructive surgery tomorrow morning to correct a congenital birth defect inside my ears. I hope that this chapter does not seem rushed and I have one big question for everyone: Do you think I should dedicate an entire chapter to Megatron's point of view on everything? I hope no one disagrees with the relationship that I have been portraying between him and Bumblebee, and I would like to explore it further. Just let me know and I hope this chapter lived up to expectations and thank you for reading!!


	16. Chapter XVI : Megatron I

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to give an extra-big thanks to Middernacht for the wonderful picture she drew of Bumblebee for me. I am still stunned by the positive responses I have received towards my stories & I greatly appreciate any works of art someone is willing to take their time to do. If anyone would like to see it, just go to her account on Deviantart. And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.

Youngling - Chapter XVI - Megatron

* * *

The towering double doors that led to the main antechamber of the Decepticon's underground base opened with a resounding echo and the forms of numerous mechs were cast in shadow as they exited the expansive room. Light filtered throughout the musty air as the large terminals that lined the walls shifted from picture to picture, their titanic screens ever-changing as surveillance footage from the surface was fed to them. However, it was the beast-like form that sat upon one of the computer chairs that demanded the attention of all who entered the room.

"Seal all entrances to the surface and place guards around the perimeter," snarled Megatron, his blood red optics watching the screens with a shrewd attentiveness, "Turn the power down to minimum levels. If he has not already, my brother will be sending a party of scouts out to search for our base."

Megatron reached out a jagged claw and tapped a button on a nearby computer terminal. One of the screens to his right flashed light green and a series of large turbines and converters appeared on the monitor.

"We do not need for them to discover the location of our main generator," said the Decepticon Lord, "So we must take further precautions in order to maintain and guarantee our obscurity." He turned hard red optics on his subordinates. "Is that understood?"

"Of course, my Lord," said Blackout, "We will not fail you."

The Decepticon Lord's red optics scrutinized every mech and femme who stood before him, his hard glare enough to freeze their sparks. He didn't need to tell them what the punishment would be if they failed him again.

Megatron was _**not**_ a compassionate fool like his soft-sparked older brother. And speaking of his brother…

"You know the consequences that failure entails," warned Megatron as he turned back toward the monitors and waved a dismissive claw, "Now leave me. I have important matters to attend to than your driveling excuses."

The insult was blatantly directed toward his second-in-command who was left seething at the back of the room.

"As you wish, Lord Megatron."

"Of course, my Lord."

The room soon descended into silence as the remaining Decepticons filed out. Not even Starscream was stupid enough to continue his earlier argument with his commander, who seemed to be in a rather foul mood at the moment.

And when Megatron was irritated, well, heads tended to roll. Literally.

The Decepticon Lord remained silent for almost a breem, his optics watching the screens intently before finally shifting down to the small figure who lay curled within one of his monstrous hands. Despite the sudden confusion and terror that the young Autobot mech obviously felt at the situation, it seemed that the turmoil and chaos of the past few joors had finally caught up with the youngling and had forced him into a restless recharge.

It had surprised Megatron when he had felt the youngling's small frame curl into a tight little ball, his tiny fingers capturing one of the Decepticon's wicked claws. Megatron had simply stared in disbelief as the youngling had released a quiet whine, squirming for a few astroseconds as he tucked the sharp digit against his thin chest armor and pressed his small head against Megatron's rough palm.

Megatron stared down at the slumbering youngling, stunned by this sudden turn of events. The youngling was not supposed to trust him, but fear him.

But it appeared that the little microchip was out to prove the Decepticon Lord wrong, and when the youngling squeaked quietly and curled Megatron's claw even closer to his chest…well…the beast-like 'Con could do nothing more than stare in sheer disbelief.

What was wrong with this thing?!

Then again, Megatron was pretty sure that he knew the reasoning behind the small bot's relaxed disposition when he was in the demon-mech's presence. And he was sure that the youngling would not have acted like this if he was just _**any**_ mech. No, the youngling would be screaming his vocal capacitor out if Megatron had not employed his own natural advantage to the situation. And despite his brother's beliefs…

The Decepticon Lord was no fool.

He was well aware of his relation to this little Autobot mech.

Megatron did not understand why his brother had even thought that he could hide the youngling from him. It had been obvious to the Decepticon Lord from the very astrosecond he had laid optics on the little yellow minibot. After all, there was no mistaking the sibling-bond that flowed between their two sparks.

The bond between Megatron and the youngling had a slightly different feel than the one between Optimus and Megatron, but those little differences could have been caused by a variety of reasons.

Truthfully, Megatron did not quite know _**what**_ to make of the youngling. It was obviously a mech (and thank Primus for that) and very young, maybe no more than a few hundred vorns old. And that meant that he was created after the destruction of the Youth Sectors.

Frustration began to cloud Megatron's processor. No matter how much he thought about it, he simply could not figure out how the youngling had been created. He and Optimus's creators had been dead for many thousands of vorns. Megatron himself had seen to it that their foolish mech-creator did not interfere with his aspirations. And their femme-creator, the eternally headstrong yet compassionate Artemis, had not lasted long after the death of her beloved Sentinel Prime.

It simply was not possible.

Then again, the proof of that impossibility was lying curled up in the palm of his demon-like claws at that very moment.

He could simply kill the youngling right here and now.

It would be simple. After all, it was not like the youngling could defend himself in any way against the massive Decepticon Lord. All it would take would be a swift curling of his claws into a tight fist…

And the youngling would be no more.

Megatron himself had very little reason to keep the youngling activated for reasons other than odd curiosity and vague interest. But, despite trying to convince himself otherwise, there was _**something**_ stopping him from tightening his claws and sending the young spark before him into the Matrix.

It was a side of himself he had thought long dead. And although that side was not strong enough to affect any of his other feelings, it was potent enough to keep him from committing fratricide. At least in regards to this brother…

He would still gladly rip his older brother's spark out of its casing if he was ever given the chance. But it would seem that the youngest brother was safe. For now, that is.

"My Lord," hissed the familiar voice of Ravage, his feline form slinking through the shadows and toward the sitting Decepticon, "What would you have me do?"

Megatron stared down at the tiny yellow form he held in his hand, his processor working through the numerous situations the youngling's presence would surely generate amongst his less-than-sympathetic troops. Thankfully, most of his soldiers were either indifferent to the small mech or were too loyal to their lord to voice their objections. Nevertheless, a few certain mechs had already voiced their opposition to the youngling's presence.

"Keep a close optic on Starscream and his Seekers," ordered Megatron, locking optics with the jaguar-mech as he came to stand beside him, "I do not want him coming near the youngling without me being present in the room."

Ravage growled an affirmative, "Of course, my Lord."

The Decepticon saboteur assumed his time-honored position to the right side of his lord, lying down to rest for a few breems before his recon shift was scheduled to begin. He was Megatron's finest scout hands-down and the towering Decepticon Lord had no doubt that Ravage would know about and inform him of the Autobots' approach long before any of his other subordinates.

And Megatron knew that anything spoken or seen in that room between himself and the youngling would never be repeated by the saboteur. Ravage was without a doubt his most loyal soldier and Megatron knew that the youngling would be safe in the feline- mech's presence.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The Decepticon Lord shifted his gaze down to the youngling who had turned in his slumber and curled even deeper into Megatron's hand. Now that he had the youngling, he was not quite sure what to do with him. The obsession with taking what belonged to his brother had clouded over all thoughts of what he would do once he had the youngling in his possession. And the thrill of having taken what was obviously so precious to Prime had prevented him from thinking about such things during the mission.

Now, however, this was a very real problem.

What was he, the ruthless and cold-sparked leader of the Decepticons, going to do with a very young and both emotionally and physically fragile youngling?

It was already very obvious that his second-in-command viewed the youngling as a threat to his position. Megatron did not understand why such a feeling of animosity would manifest in the other mech's spark considering the Seeker could not possibly know of their true relation. It was impossible for anyone besides himself to know that the tiny mech was in fact his younger brother.

However, if Starscream ever did discover the truth behind the youngling's fraternal relations, then Megatron was positive that the egotistical Seeker would view the tiny mech as a very real threat. Knowing Starscream, he would probably assume that Megatron was grooming the youngling to be his successor as Decepticon Lord. And yet again, his second-in-command would have overlooked one vital detail…

The youngling was far too small and soft to ever become a powerful Decepticon leader.

Megatron could tell just by looking at the youngling that he was very small for his age and that his tiny frame design was centered around an equally tiny spark. Not that the spark was weak in essence—oh no, Megatron could feel the strong pulls of that tiny spark tugging incessantly at his own dark core—it would simply never be able to power a frame of any significant size.

The youngling would probably never be able to accommodate a frame any thicker or taller than Megatron's thigh unit.

To say the least, Megatron could tell without a shred of doubt that the youngling would never achieve even half the mass or height as either of his two older brothers. He would not be surprised if the youngling became a scout or recon specialist. Such areas of expertise would certainly fit the mech's small design very well.

In blunt terms, the youngling definitely did not possess a frame that was expected of a Decepticon Lord.

Which yet again brought him back to the baffling question of how the youngling had been created. He just could not seem to figure out how—

"My Lord," hissed Ravage, his red feline optics gazing up at the Decepticon Lord from the shadows beside his chair, "I believe the little one has awoken."

Megatron felt the tell-tale stirring of the youngling through their bond before he even turned his optics downward, the persistent tendrils tugging at his cold spark as the youngling drifted out of recharge. Well, he certainly was a stubborn little microchip and Megatron dearly wondered what in the galaxy possessed his brother—or whoever it was who had created the youngling—to paint his frame the most loud and obnoxious shade of yellow in the universe.

It was a complete and utter optic-sore.

And if it was his brother who had chosen such a loathsome color, well, then all the more reason for Megatron to deactivate him.

"Why's it so cold?" whispered the youngling groggily, his smalls hands rubbing at his optics as he fought off the last remnants of slumber. "Where's 'Hide?"

"They are not here, young one," rumbled Megatron, his jagged claws moving up to form a make-shift barrier as the youngling awkwardly sat up, "You are no longer amongst the Autobot army."

The youngling looked around for a moment before turning to gaze up at the titanic Decepticon Lord with bewildered optics, shakily asking, "When can I go home?"

Megatron leaned further back into the chair and stared down at the youngling, his stony optics assessing the little mech's reactions as he responded, "You may return to the Autobot ranks when I see fit."

"That's not fair!" cried the youngling.

The little mech stood up and glared at the Decepticon, his tiny hands balling into fists as he pushed one of Megatron's wicked claws aside in his fit of rage. His baby blue optics met Megatron's own blood red ones, the youngling's normally adorable features contorting into an irritated grimace. If there was one thing that Bumblebee did not like, it was being told **_no_ **by someone who was a big, mean slag-head!

And Megatron definitely fell into that category.

"I believe it is plenty fair, young one," snapped Megatron, one of his claws tapping the youngling in the side in warning when he tried to climb off, "And you should be thankful that I do not punish you for taking such a disrespectful tone."

"I'm only respectful to people who're respectful to me," Bumblebee argued with a firm stomp of his foot and his hands on his hips, "An' you haven't been!"

Megatron's optics narrowed, his back straightening as he glared down at the sassy little mech, "I have been lenient thus far, but if you show one more sign of—"

The Decepticon Lord never got to finish his sentence before the double doors that led to the room burst open with a resounding thud. Starscream stood in the entrance with his fellow Seekers beside him, his bird-like form looming in the dim light. Despite the fact that Starscream usually preferred subtlety and deception, he had obviously concluded that this situation required a more direct approach.

"Lord Megatron, the other Decepticons and I agree that this was a foolish—"

"If you do not have anything worthwhile to report, Starscream," Megatron growled, his claws subconsciously curling around the youngling, "Then I suggest you return to your assigned post immediately."

"The rodent is useless to our cause and will be another drawback when we—"

_**"Silence!!" **_

The Decepticon Lord bared his serrated teeth at the Seekers who immediately took a step back when the towering mech rose from his seat in rage. Ravage snarled at his side, slinking around beside his commander in a clear display as to where his loyalties lie. Such an outburst and daring confrontation from Megatron's second-in-command had been building up for many vorns.

And it seemed that Bumblebee would be the catalyst for the inevitable altercation between the two egotistical mechs.

"I will not tolerate insubordination from you any longer, Starscream," snarled the larger Decepticon as he lowered the youngling into Ravage's waiting jaws, "And it would appear that the only time that you know your place is when I put you in it!"

Bumblebee squeaked in terror when he saw the two colossal Decepticons collide, his spark instinctively reaching out to Megatron when the larger mech left him behind with the feline-mech. The youngling felt scared and alone in this dark underground abyss that the 'Cons called a base, and he did not want the only source of familiarity and comfort he had in this yawning darkness to leave him too.

And despite what all of the other Autobots continually told him, Bumblebee simply did not find Megatron to be all that scary. His rumbling voice, demon-like frame, towering height, and penchant for ripping things apart was quite intimidating, even Bumblebee had to admit that; but, there was just _**something**_ that kept the youngling from ever being truly afraid of the cruel Decepticon Lord.

The little mech could not quite put his finger on it. And to say the least, it was beginning to drive him fritzy!

_**BBBOOOMMM!!**_

The Decepticon Lord ruthlessly slammed his smaller subordinate down onto the ground and twisted one of his arms into a painful position. Off to the side stood at least thirteen Decepticons, their optics fixed on the two larger 'Cons as they fought a battle of brute force. Unfortunately, it was clear to every being present in the room who was the stronger of the two in this battle.

"I grow tired of these foolish games, Starscream," hissed Megatron, his jagged claws sinking into the outer layer of the other mech's armor as he pressed his massive weight down into the Seeker's frame, "And I would suggest that you stop trying my patience or else I may have to do more than humiliate you in front of your peers. Do you understand?"

Starscream blatantly ignored the larger mech and continued to struggle beneath his captor's crushing weight.

"I said," snarled Megatron, pressing his elbows sharply down into the other mech's back panels whilst nearly crushing his vent system with his knees, "Do you understand?"

"Yes," whispered the other mech.

"What was that?" goaded Megatron.

"Yes, Lord Megatron!" conceded Starscream, his vocals taking on a high note before fading into a deep and prolonged wheeze. "I understand."

"Good," said Megatron as he stood up and walked back over to Ravage, "Then I do believe that this meeting is over. Return to your posts immediately."

The temporarily mutinous mechs filed out of the room at a break-neck pace, their optics frantically drifting over to the arrogant form of their commander. Megatron had yet again proved who was the superior mech in battle and the Seekers were quick to help their fellow aerial mech make a hasty exit from the room. None of them wished to incur the wrath of their leader at that moment because they all knew that the next mech or femme to defy Megatron so blatantly would not escape with their life.

Megatron actually enjoyed being questioned once so that he could show the rest of the galaxy just how powerful he was by beating the questioner into a twitching pile of circuits. But to be questioned a second time was simply stupid and suicidal in every sense of the word.

Not even Starscream was so bold as to question his superior twice in a vorn. If the Seeker had been so bold, he would have joined the Matrix long ago.

"That," drawled Megatron as Ravage gently placed the youngling into the palm of his hand once again, "Is what happens to those who defy me."

Bumblebee simply gazed at the spot where Megatron had ruthlessly beaten his own second-in-command into submission, shocked by the beast-like brutality that he had just witnessed from this being who was obviously bonded to him in some meaningful way. The youngling stared numbly at the small pool of bright blue energon that had accumulated on the floor during the fight.

The Decepticon Lord simply stared at the youngling with emotionless optics, his claws curling around the tiny mech as Megatron brought him up to lean against his upper chassis. He had business to attend to outside of the main terminal room and the last thing Megatron needed was for one of his less-than-trustworthy subordinates to discover that he had left the youngling unattended for more than a few astroseconds.

That was a death wish waiting to happen.

The youngling whimpered and buried his head in Megatron's impenetrable chest armor, his small fingers curling around the outer layers as tears started to stream silently down his cheekplates. Both of the Decepticons chose to ignore the quiet hiccups that they could faintly hear coming from the youngling. However, in a moment of peculiarity and recollection of a time long past, Megatron positioned the youngling just a few scant meters higher against his chest armor.

To the untrained optic, this adjustment would have simply appeared to be the older mech's attempt to move his arm into a more comfortable position. But to Bumblebee, it was the most soothing movement he had felt the entire orn.

And the youngling tasted for the first time the powerful spark of his dark older brother.

* * *

I am terribly sorry that it has taken me so long to update. Yet again. My surgery was a lot more complicated & long-lasting than I had anticipated. I am actually going to need to undergo two more within the next few months & I am now partially deaf in one of my ears as a result of the birth defect. But that is beside the point. I really don't know about this chapter & if I portrayed Megatron right. He is so hard to write, especially when you're trying make him seem remotely empathetic. If I need to revise, just tell me & I'll gladly do it. I really hope this lives up to your expectations & I hope you enjoyed reading!!


	17. Chapter XVII : Megatron II

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to give an extra-big thanks to Middernacht for yet another wonderful picture she drew of Bumblebee for me. If anyone would like to see it, just go to her account on Deviantart. And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying from her story Night Fire, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.

Youngling - Chapter XVII - Megatron

* * *

The towering hallways of the underground base loomed high over the Decepticon Lord and his feline-mech comrade as they strode down the musty corridors. The distinct sound of metal on earth could be heard as they walked, their hard optics watching the dark shadows around them. Despite the fact that there were well over two dozen Decepticons within the base at the moment, the leader of the Decepticons knew that one could never be too careful on a foreign world.

Especially one that was noted for having colossal, flesh-eating worms in its damper areas. Thankfully, he doubted that his kind's inorganic bodies would interest such a creature anyways.

Nevertheless, the Decepticon Lord remained watchful of his clammy surroundings and subconsciously tightened his hold on the small mech that he held in his almighty arms. The youngling had not made so much as a peep during the entire walk down the corridor, his small frame curled against Megatron's upper chest armor as the older mech kept the yellow youngling safely shielded within dagger-like claws. Despite the earlier commotion, the little mech seemed to be perfectly content in his current position and had refused to be removed from Megatron's chassis as the older mech attended to various tasks throughout the base.

Megatron had been genuinely surprised by the little mech's stubbornness when he had attempted to remove him. The youngling was like a leech, his tiny digits attaching to the Decepticon Lord's armor like serrated hooks. All attempts to pry the yellow runt off had proven useless and Megatron had finally had to give up for fear of cutting the minibot in half with his jagged claws.

And then, the optic-sore had even had the audacity to scream at him!!

The little runt had continued to hiss and buzz until Megatron had allowed him to latch back onto his chassis, his small frame instantly burrowing deep into the crevices of the rough armor. Megatron wondered if the thing had contracted a virus or something, because it simply could not be normal for a youngling to hiss and snarl that ferociously under any circumstances.

Despite the fact that the youngling's coloring seriously clashed with the dark hues of his own battle armor, Megatron much preferred the silence that entailed simply leaving the little mech to his own devices down there.

Who would have ever thought that such a runty scrap-heap could scream at such high decibel levels?

Surely the mech who had constructed the youngling's frame had not been in his right processor when he had designed the runt's vocal capacitor. Unless said mech had the capability of shutting down his own auditory receptors. Only a truly sadistic bot would curse his own comrades with such a terrible blight.

Megatron himself was inclined to believe the aforementioned constructor of the youngling's second frame to be his brother's resident chief medical officer. The violent medic had left quite an impression on the Deception Lord many vorns ago.

"My Lord," hissed Ravage, his sleek form tensing as they neared the end of the hallway and the doors to the main terminal room opened before them, "It would appear we've got company."

The Decepticon Lord snarled when he saw the tell-tale mix of glowing yellow and dark purple in the far corner of the room. This was the last mech he wanted to speak with at the moment.

"I did not issue an order," growled the Decepticon Lord, "that called for you to leave your assigned post, Shockwave."

With a barely audible shuffle of movement, the military operations commander strode forth from the murky shadows and into the faint light that was being produced by the computer terminals. The Decepticon was flanked by two of his drones, his laser gun arm hanging to the side in what appeared to be an unthreatening manner. Even his single golden optic had a nonviolent air about it.

But Megatron knew better than to underestimate his subordinate. After all, it had been Shockwave who had secretly been working behind his back since the start of the war to usurp Megatron from his position as Commander of the Decepticons. And Megatron was well aware of this fact courtesy of his most loyal intelligence operatives.

Soundwave had made sure that his commander was fully aware of the plots that Shockwave had been concocting over the vorns.

"The consequences of leaving my post are no greater than the penalty of not being able to speak with you on a very important matter, my Lord," said the monotone voice, the purple mech's golden optic locking on the youngling. "It would appear that your goals have become skewed, my Lord Megatron."

The larger mech narrowed his optics, shifting slightly to the side as Ravage slinked into the room through the doorway and came to stand beside his left foot. Megatron did not like the way Shockwave was gazing at the youngling nor the disrespectful tone in which the other mech had spoken to him.

"My goals are the same as they have always been," snarled Megatron, his massive frame tensing with barely restrained fury at his subordinate's insolent question, "And I do not think it would be wise for you to ever forget that, Shockwave."

The other mech seemed unfazed by the threatening tone of his commander's voice and simply continued on, "I have forgotten nothing, my Lord. But I fear that it may be you who has."

"I suggest you choose your words carefully," warned Megatron, lightly grasping the youngling in one of his claws, "Or else they may very well be your last."

Bumblebee twittered quietly when he felt Megatron's sharp claws wrap around his frame, not at all happy about being removed from a position where he was able to gain easy access to the towering mech's spark. He had been drinking up the powerful pulse of the Decepticon Lord's spark, eagerly reveling in the fact that the massive mech did not push him away. Instead, Megatron's fierce spark embraced him and allowed the youngling to take comfort in its formidable presence.

"He has Artemis's optics," Shockwave pointed out, his own optic scanning the youngling from a distance. "Albeit his coloring is clearly Autobot."

Megatron visibly bristled at the mention of his femme creator.

It was not uncommon to hear a Decepticon put down the name of Sentinel Prime, since most knew that their commander held his mech creator in fairly low regard. After all, it had been Megatron himself who had deactivated the once great Prime. However, it was a well known fact that the name of their leader's deceased femme creator was never to be mentioned in his presence. Or within a thousand miles of him.

Most of his subordinates had come to the conclusion that he had hated his femme creator even more than Sentinel, and that was why Megatron would deactivate any mech who was foolish enough to utter her name. None of them knew that Artemis had in fact been one of the very few beings in the entire universe whom Megatron had ever felt any degree of love for, and it was her death which had finally driven him into the deepest depths of the darkness.

And although Megatron had never been very close to his mother, he had loved her and would have done almost anything in his power to protect her. Then again, if he had ever told her such a thing she would have simply kissed him atop the head and stated that she could protect herself, but she was grateful for such a dashing offer from her youngest son. It was in his mother's nature to be strong-willed and headstrong; she was, after all, the sparkmate of Sentinel Prime and femme creator of the great Optimus and Megatron.

In spite of this, not even his mother's fierce love had been strong enough to dissuade Megatron from pursuing his goals. And in the end, it was the blindness of love which had prevented both Artemis and Sentinel from seeing what had become of their youngest son.

And by the time they had noticed, it was too late.

Ultimately, Megatron had been unable to face his femme creator after the death of Sentinel Prime at his own hands. He knew that Artemis was going to die a slow death as a result of his father's dissolved spark.

It was inevitable.

In spite of this, Megatron did not want to be there when his femme creator's baby blue optics finally faded into oblivion, her silver and dark blue frame lying still upon a table as her ventilation systems shut down and her spark became one with the Matrix. She had wished to die from the very moment she had felt her beloved's departure from the world of the living, and had welcomed death despite her oldest son's desperate pleas for her to continue on and stay with them.

In the end, not even Artemis was headstrong enough to fight her own dying spark.

Megatron did not regret much of what he had done in his life, but the death of his mother was one of the few experiences that would surely haunt him until his deactivation. He knew that his older brother was by her side until the very end and was actually thankful that his sibling held more compassion in his spark than him.

But in spite of everything he had done, Megatron was sure that his mother would not have turned him away if he had tried to visit her.

Artemis was too good for hate. Unfortunately, the youngest of her sons was not.

And it was the baby blue optics of the youngling whom he held in his hand that reminded him so much of his femme creator. The little mech possessed the same distinctive optics that his mother and older brother held, except in Megatron's processor they far more resembled Artemis's than his brother's own units.

The fact that the youngling even possessed such optics was proof unto his lineage.

"You have no right to speak her name," hissed Megatron, coming to stand before the other mech once the youngling was safe within Ravage's careful jaws, "And if you do so again, I will rip your vocal capacitor out with my owns hands."

Bumblebee remained silent within Ravage's familiar jaws, gazing up at the massive Decepticons who looked like they wanted nothing more than to rip one another to shreds and then trample the aforementioned shreds into the ground. And if such a violent scenario did take place, Bumblebee sincerely hoped Megatron would come out as the victor. That other mech, the big purple 'Con with only one creepy golden optic, did not seem like the nicest bot in the universe.

Well, neither was Megatron, but that was beside the point.

At least Bumblebee felt safe with Megatron. The fear and apprehension that most of the other Autobots seemed to feel when in his presence simply did not occur in the little mech's own spark. The youngling felt perfectly at ease with the enormous 'Con and would much rather have been resting against Megatron's battle-roughened chassis than dangling by his scruff-bar from the feline-mech's jaws.

"I meant no disrespect, my Lord," countered the military operations commander in his monotone voice, "I was only stating a fact."

The youngling squirmed in discomfort as that lone golden optic continued to stare at him as if Bumblebee was some science experiment ready for dissection. Ravage sensed the little mech's distress and shifted slightly to the side, effectively preventing the purple 'Con from getting a complete view of the youngling. Nevertheless, Bumblebee still did not feel comfortable and wanted nothing more than for Megatron to make the other mech leave the room.

"You rely too much on fact, Shockwave," hissed Megatron, his blood red optics practically blazing with hatred and anger, "And that is why the Autobots are able to break through the lines of your sparkless drones so easily."

Megatron firmly believed that a few highly dedicated and skilled soldiers were far more effective than an entire legion of Shockwave's apathetic drones. They served their purposes in battle, but Megatron much preferred his own troops any orn.

"Drones follow orders without question," responded Shockwave emotionlessly, his optic continuing to scan the youngling for any signs that may confirm his mounting suspicions, "The same cannot be said of our more sentient troops."

"Logic does not win all battles," countered Megatron.

"But it does win most," replied Shockwave, his precious logic center disregarding the foolish errors which his commander spoke, "And that is why the Decepticon Army could easily win this war. We already have control of all the remaining production factories on Cybertron. It would only be logical to put them to use."

"Drones do little good against an enemy that is capable of processing outside of the cube," snapped Megatron, annoyed by his inferior's one-track line of processing, "Once we have the All-Spark, we will be able to create a new army of sentient beings that will follow my commands without question." Megatron fixed the other mech with a hard glare, daring him to disagree. "Far more effective than an army of sparkless drones."

"The Prime is the only one who knows of the All-Spark's location," said Shockwave with a slight tilt of his head, "And it would be wise to assume that he will not speak unless we use proper provocation."

Megatron's glare only continued to harden as he inwardly predicted where this conversation was leading. And he did not like it at all. Shockwave was well aware of all the atrocities Megatron had committed in order to get his brother to reveal the location of the All-Spark. None had worked thus far, and Megatron doubted that Shockwave would be so delusional as to believe that Optimus Prime would give up such an invaluable secret for one puny youngling.

Unless, that is, if Shockwave believed that the youngling was in fact related to the Prime in some way, no matter how obscure. And if the operations commander was able to draw such a conclusion, then he would quickly rationalize that if the youngling possessed such a relation to Optimus Prime, then he surely possessed the same or similar one to the Decepticon Lord.

To put it simply, Megatron did not like the sneaky way in which his subordinate was drawing very real and very dangerous implications.

"Deactivating the youngling would hurt the Prime more than anything else," said Shockwave suddenly as he took a step towards Ravage. He discreetly kept his optic to the side in order to observe his commander's reaction. "Sending the Prime holo-feeds of the youngling being tortured would be the most effective way to get a— "

And react Megatron did…

Within less than an astrosecond, the Decepticon Lord had grabbed his subordinate by the throat and effectively pinned him against the nearest wall that was devoid of monitor screens. His deep red optics had become speckled with black tints, the ultimate sign that Megatron's ferocious fury was about to be unleashed.

"The youngling's fate is my responsibility and my responsibility alone," growled Megatron, his left claw lifting the other mech off the ground and up against the wall whilst his other claw slashed out at the approaching drones, effectively decapitating them. "And I would suggest that you learn to follow orders or else I might be forced to appoint a new operations commander within the orn."

"He's far too young to have been created before or directly after the destruction of the Youth Sectors," stated Shockwave, undaunted by his superior's brutal rage and rough handling of his person, "And from what I have observed of his frame and spark, the youngling had a _**very**_ unusual means of creation. Unlike any I have ever seen before…"

Megatron snarled at the fact that his subordinate was voicing the very questions that had been plaguing his spark since he had laid optics on the youngling a few orns ago. Thankfully though, Shockwave had no idea that Megatron was in reality the youngling's older brother, a fact that the Decepticon Lord did not plan on disclosing to even his most loyal of servants.

"Such things are not of your concern, Shockwave," rumbled Megatron as he threw the other mech to the side and returned to retrieve the youngling, "My only concern is the destruction of the Autobot army and recovery of the All-Spark. And if the youngling is key in luring them into a situation where we have the upper hand, then I will decide what will become of the youngling's life at a later time."

Bumblebee eagerly scrambled into Megatron's hand and burrowed into the familiar crevices of his upper chassis, content to be back with the Decepticon Lord and within such close proximity of his spark. The little mech cast one last wary glance at the one-opticed Decepticon, his spark quivering with fear when he saw that the mech still had his golden optic fixed upon him. With a quiet whimper, Bumblebee buried his face into Megatron's thick chassis and simply let the towering 'Con's spark drive away the threats around him.

"Learn your place, Shockwave," snarled Megatron as he turned to leave, "Or else I will be forced to remove you from it."

Ravage obediently followed his commander out of the large room, but not before turning to glare back at the purple 'Con with narrowed optics. Once Ravage felt he had gotten his point across, the feline-mech slinked out of the room with a swish of his tail and slam of the door.

* * *

__

A few joors later…

Bumblebee was not a very happy bot. Not at all.

The youngling sat on the table he had been placed upon, his arms crossed across his chest as he fixed the moldy walls of the room with a wary glare. He had awoken from a short recharge to discover that he was in an unfamiliar room (no surprise there) and that Megatron was no where to be found (that was a surprise). Thoroughly confused and taken aback by the fact that he had been left alone, Bumblebee had decided to investigate what had occurred during his much-needed nap. After all, hadn't Megatron been adamant about not leaving him alone?

No sooner had Bumblebee attempted to climb down from the high table before he was grabbed from behind by a familiar set of jaws.

"Hey, put me down!!" shouted the youngling, desperately fighting the instinctive limpness that took over his frame whenever he was grabbed by the scruff-bar, "You know, this whole carrying me in your mouth thing's really startin' to get old."

Ravage ignored the youngling's shouts and squirms as he walked across the room and around a series of shelves, only stopping when he entered another section of the large, expansive room. However, unlike the other side, this portion of the chamber was loud and filled with the shouts of his comrades.

"What the slag…"

Bumblebee simply stared at the half dozen mechs who littered the room, none of them even aware of the blue optics watching them. The youngling wondered how many of the Decepticons came in these odd forms because it now seemed that Ravage was not the only 'Con who enjoyed transforming into the shapes of organic lifeforms.

"What are they?" murmured Bumblebee.

"My symbiotic subordinates," answered an unfamiliar voice from across the room.

Bumblebee turned his gaze towards the back of the room and spotted a towering form of dark navy blue and silver paint. The large mech was sitting at a computer terminal and had various wires running into various parts of his frame. A powerful looking cannon was situated atop his right shoulder whilst his optics were covered by a deep red visor. And it was not until the huge mech swiveled around in his chair that Bumblebee noticed the odd flatness of his entire chassis.

"Where's Megatron?" asked Bumblebee.

He had long since given up on trying to escape Ravage's jaws and instead decided to take a good look around the room. It was littered with computers and sound equipment of all sizes, shapes, and brands, organized neatly according to their function. Massive shelves lined the towering walls and Bumblebee wondered how the other mech, despite his formidable height, was able to reach the top shelf.

"Lord Megatron was needed elsewhere and he obviously reasoned that it was too dangerous to take you along with him," informed the mech as he plugged another wire into his cranium, "So instead he deemed it wise to leave you under my supervision until he returns."

Bumblebee tilted his head to the side in thought before finally asking, "So when's he coming back?"

The older mech stared at him blankly before answering, "Whenever he is able."

"When's that?" pushed Bumblebee.

"I will not justify such a redundant question with an answer," replied the 'Con as he returned to his work. "Now make yourself useful and assist the others in cleaning out those ventilation units in the far right corner."

Bumblebee stared at the large Decepticon with an equally blank look before asking one last question, "What's your name?"

"Soundwave."

* * *

Well, I think I got this chapter out pretty fast considering the circumstances. Once again, I truly hope I did not butcher Megatron & make him seem like a total pansy. Let me know if I need to revise or anything, okay? But nevertheless, I hope it lived up to expectations & thank you for reading!!

P.S. - I kind of need a little help with Soundwave's little symbiotic buddies. I'm not too sure how to write their personalities, so if anyone can give me any info it would be greatly appreciated!!


	18. Chapter XVIII : Ravage

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to give an extra-big thanks to Middernacht for yet another wonderful picture she drew of Bumblebee for me. If anyone would like to see it, just go to her account on Deviantart. And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying from her story Night Fire, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.

Youngling - Chapter XVIII - Ravage

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The towering walls of the underground base loomed high over the piles of neatly arranged equipment that littered the communications room. Numerous shelves lined the moldy walls, stuffed to the point of overflowing with boxes of wires and old computers that had obviously seen better orns. But it was the immense terminal screens at the back of the room that dominated the surroundings and gave off an air of superiority that was definitely in reflection of its creator's intelligence. Unfortunately, said creator was trying very hard to rein in his temper at the moment.

"I would suggest leaving him alone, Rumble," warned Soundwave when he saw the dark purple minibot approaching the youngling, "Or else you might get—"

"YYYEEOOOWWW!!"

"Scratched," finished Soundwave.

"Ya fraggin' piece o' scrap-metal!!!!!" hollered Rumble as he clutched his left arm in an attempt to obstruct the flow of energon, "I'm gonna rip yer slaggin' tail off!!"

The feline-mech simply growled at his screaming comrade, licking the energon off of his razor-sharp claws whilst wrapping his tail protectively around the youngling. He had known that his more aggressive brothers would attempt to harm the little mech before too long and had made sure to keep the youngling within close proximity. The small mech had not disagreed and had clung to Ravage since his arrival to the main communications room.

"I would like to see you try," hissed Ravage's smooth voice, backpanels bristling at the open challenge, "It has been quite some time since I last had someone to play with."

Ravage easily deposited the youngling onto a shelf with his tail and approached the cocky minibot with a fierce snarl and swipe of his claws. Rumble immediately jumped back and was embarrassed by the snort of laughter he heard from the saboteur. With a swish of his tail, the feline-mech turned around and picked the youngling up by his scruff-bar before leaping up onto his creator's desk.

"Cheater," snapped Rumble as he returned to hardwiring some sound modulators that Soundwave had ordered him to repair within the joor. "Always thinks he's better than everyone an' doesn't listen to…"

The saboteur pointedly ignored the other mech and gently deposited the youngling between his front legs as he settled down atop the desk. Bumblebee did not even attempt to move away this time, instead scooching further backwards until he was leaning against the feline-mech's underbelly. The intelligence operative did not object and simply allowed the youngling to find a spot where he felt safe and comfortable. Despite what the Autobot forces thought, some of the Decepticons were not processorless killing machines and did not kill other creatures unless such an action was necessary to their cause.

"What're they?" asked Bumblebee, peeking out from his safe haven between the saboteur's front legs to gaze up at the mechs flying from shelf to shelf.

"They all have various occupations," stated Ravage, sitting down in a position that was very similar to a large cat, "But most relate back to the gathering of intelligence."

Bumblebee continued to stare at the fliers with bemused optics, slowly making his way out and onto the feline-mech's left paw. "So that's why they've got organic forms?"

"Yes, essentially," replied Ravage, gently wrapping his right paw around the little mech's front and dragging him back to the safety of his chassis, "And I would not suggest straying too far, young one, they tend to adopt other characteristics of their organic forms as well. "

The youngling did not need to be told twice and willingly returned to his previous position between the saboteur's paws. Bumblebee could tell that Ravage was fiercely loyal to Megatron and would not defy a direct order from the Decepticon Lord. However, the same could not be said of the feline-mech's comrades.

"Who got hurt now?" asked an exasperated voice.

Bumblebee looked up and over his newly appointed guardian's paws, watching as a sleek silver and blue form approached the desk. The new mech possessed a form similar to Ravage's, resembling the organic form of a large feline with a sleek body, a strong jaw, and a swift-footed grace. However, it was the square-shaped boxes that were attached to this new mech's hips which really puzzled the youngling.

"Rumble attempted to harm the youngling," stated Ravage in his usual calm voice, "And I simply reminded him of the consequences that disobeying an order can entail. He brought it upon himself."

The new mech simply shook his head and trotted towards the cursing demolitions expert, his whip-like tail swaying from side to side in an exasperated manner. It appeared from the way he acted that this was a common occurrence. Nevertheless, Rumble did not seem at all pleased by the feline-mech's sudden arrival.

"Who's he?" asked Bumblebee.

"That's Glit, our resident doctor and the Decepticon's finest surgeon," answered the darker feline-mech, "He's a common sight amongst these particular units."

The youngling watched the doctor tend to a violently thrashing Rumble for a few breems before boredom began to set in. Bumblebee soon found himself perched atop his guardian's paws, his optics looking all around the cluttered room from this better vantage point. Unfortunately, his observations were soon interrupted by a particularly loud set of squawking from the upper shelves of the far right wall.

It appeared that one of the bird-mech's was quarrelling with another about where to place a box of wires and the annoyed roars of a beast-like mech could be heard from the bottom shelves. Bumblebee watched this interaction with wary optics, not too sure if he wanted to see any action or not. After all, most of the quarrels that he had seen between two Decepticons usually ended up with one of them being badly injured or deactivated, and Bumblebee certainly did not wish such a fate upon any creature.

"Just ignore them," said Ravage in a bored tone, suggesting that this was a regular occurrence amongst the three raging mechs, "Beastbox enjoys tormenting others and more than likely threw something at Squawktalk and Buzzsaw."

Bumblebee clicked uneasily when he saw one of the bird-like mech's fly over them and towards another shelf top, the suffocating feeling of vulnerability weighing heavily on his processor. He immediately leapt back into the safety of Ravage's underbelly when the form of one of the bird-mech's landed on the desk. Bumblebee could just picture the dark blue mech's razor-sharp beak picking him limb from limb and then hitting at his dismantled frame with its scrawny legs. And despite the stubborn that Bumblebee knew he possessed, now was not the time to piss off a strange Decepticon mech who could probably peck his optics out if he wanted to.

And Bumblebee liked his optics where they were, thank you very much.

The youngling continued to click nervously as the strange bot approached, his tiny frame curling into a tight ball against Ravage's underbelly. Bumblebee really did not like being around so many new mechs and wanted nothing more than to see Megatron come barging through those double doors. Unfortunately, Bumblebee could also sense that the Decepticon Lord was on the other side of the compound and knew that his first and only line of defense at the moment was the feline saboteur.

Click. Chirp. Buzz. Click. Chirrup. Click. Chirp. Click.

Bumblebee's head snapped up to look at the new mech, his audio receptors warily absorbing the familiar sounds that the bird-mech had produced. Another series of chirrups and clicks came from the blue mech, his beak creating a quick sequence of youngling and sparkling garble that was unrecognizable to all in the room except for himself and the little yellow minibot.

Click. Buzz. Click. Chirrup. Twitter. Chirp. Click.

The two continued to converse for a few more moments before Ravage released a quiet sigh and maneuvered the youngling a more comfortable position atop his right claws. Bumblebee did not object and simply proceeded to speak with the bird-mech, asking him a number of questions about the other mechs in the room. However, Ravage only tolerated this for so long and soon interrupted their conversations with a sharp tone.

"Do you not have a stack of data tapes to translate, Squawktalk?" sighed the other mech, his tail swaying from side to side in annoyance at the translator's inability to mute it. "I doubt conversing with a sparkling is the most productive of tasks."

"Hey," snapped Bumblebee, jumping to his feet in indignation while smacking one of the feline-mech's claws, "I'm _**not**_ a sparkling!!"

The Decepticon did not even acknowledge this outburst and would have simply continued to talk if it was not for the sudden sound of the double doors being slammed open and a barrage of loud voices echoing within the high chamber. Ravage immediately tensed up and drew the youngling back into the protective shadows of his underbelly. It was never good when those particular voices were within close proximity of each other.

"This isn't going to turn out well," murmured Squawktalk.

Bumblebee shouted in protest, trying to fight his way out of Ravage's protective shielding, but to no avail.

"Silence, little one," ordered Ravage with a hard tone, "The last thing we need at the moment is for you to be noticed by soldiers with treacherous intentions."

The distinctive shape of two femmes could be seen at the far side of the room and Ravage wished for nothing more than to rip the one on the right apart. Flamewar he could deal with because she was an extremely capable warrior who completed her missions without a complaint and was deeply loyal to Megatron. Her companion, however, deserved to have her spark ripped from its chamber.

"I would suggest moving on to another subject, Thunderblast," said Flamewar in a quiet voice, her optics discreetly settling on the towering form of Soundwave as he leaned over the computer terminal. "Find a productive way to occupy yourself while I speak with Soundwave."

The black and red femme walked over to the communications officer, taking a seat beside him as they began to discuss the auditory necessities and logistics of her upcoming mission. Unfortunately, it appeared that the other femme either did not hear the clipped warning of her comrade or simply did not respect others' workspaces.

Ravage was willing to bet it was the latter.

Numerous optics watched the dark purple and yellow femme as she made her way around the room, poking around at various piles of audio equipment while obviously keeping a close receptor on the discussion between Soundwave and Flamewar. Ravage kept a close optic on the femme, not at all trusting her within the vicinity of his creator nor the yellow youngling. Unlike Flamewar, this femme used her gender and the promise of interfacing to manipulate mechs into her own little deceptive web.

The saboteur had seen many mechs fall to her charms over the vorns.

However, Ravage had noticed a pattern in her last few exploits and had become even more wary of the crude influence that she was holding over some of her recent conquests. No longer was the beautiful and cunning Thunderblast targeting only the finest-looking mechs. Oh no, the saboteur had noticed not too long ago that Thunderblast had started setting her sights higher. Now she only went for the most powerful and influential of the Decepticon ranks.

And her most recent target was the Lord of the Decepticons himself.

The femme soon made her way over to where Ravage was warily curled upon his creator's desk, the faint click-click-click of her heels alerting the saboteur to her inevitable approach. Fortunately, the femme was not quite as intelligent as she thought herself to be and accidentally hit a nearby circuit board.

"Be careful with those," snapped Soundwave, momentarily diverting his attention from his conversation with Flamewar, "They break easily and are in short supply."

Thunderblast discreetly glared at the mech, not wishing to end up on his bad side since Soundwave was the Decepticon Lord's most trusted officer. She watched the other mechs in the room, keeping a curious optic on the interaction between the two feline-bots to her right side. The dark blue one seemed to be arguing rather vehemently with the silver doctor about something.

This piqued Thunderblast's interest, of course, since Ravage was known for being one of the most level-headed of all the Decepticons.

"Let me see him," demanded Glit with an exasperated tone, "Primus knows how much that little bot's been thrown around over the past few joors."

"He has not mentioned having experienced any sensations of pain," stated Ravage.

"Do you honestly expect a youngling to tell you—a strange mech—how he feels after he has been taken away from his home and caretakers?" asked the doctor with his usual logical tone.

"This one would," he answered dryly.

The doctor simply fixed his comrade with an unyielding glare and held his claws out expectantly, calmly waiting for the inevitable folding that always occurred whenever he demanded something of his patients. And within a few short moments, the youngling was produced from beneath Ravage's frame and laid in the doctor's claws.

"Hey!!" squeaked the youngling when the doctor began to prod and poke him, "Watch where you're putting those things!! Hey!!"

"Still online, I see," drawled Thunderblast. She stared at the little mech with hard optics and a disgusted expression, her ego still stinging from the last encounter she'd had with the pint-sized rodent. "How unfortunate."

Ravage regarded the femme with cold optics, watching as she ran a finger over the scratch marks on her forearm. Perhaps this time she would know better than to attempt to grab at the youngling right under his vigilant olfactory sensors.

"Go frag yourself," hissed Bumblebee, not at all pleased to see the familiar femme who had tried to grab him the orn before, "And get a new faceplate too!!"

The femme turned furious optics onto the youngling and snarled, "I would watch your vocals, little mech, or else something bad might happen to you. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"Ugly rustbucket!!"

"Why you little— "

"Thunderblast!!" snarled the enraged voice of Flamewar, "Leave the brat alone!!"

"I'm _**not **_a brat!!"

"No," responded Thunderblast with an evil grin, "You're just a little pile of rusting scrap-metal." She sauntered closer and fixed her blood red optics on the youngling. "And once Lord Megatron no longer has any use for you, he'll just deactivate you and use your scrawny little frame for spare parts."

Bumblebee twittered with anger when he heard the stupid femme say these words. How dare she even imply that Megatron was going to kill him!! The glitch-head didn't know what she was talking about!!

The youngling glowered, his normally adorable faceplates scrunching up into an angry grimace that typically signaled the coming of a tantrum of epic proportions. None of these mechs seemed to care about his behavior, so Bumblebee was going to take full advantage of this leniency and really give it to this stupid, good-for-nothing femme.

"You're just an ugly, old aft-face!!"

The femme's features descended into a dark glower that would have made most mechs run for their lives.

However, Bumblebee had been raised by Ironhide, the master-of-scowling-and-glowering-and-shooting-random-innocent-objects, so it would take a lot more than a venomous glare to rattle the youngling.

"Megatron doesn't give two screws about you! Pipe-sucker!!"

The femme snarled in fury at the crude insult and made to grab the youngling, but just missed as the doctor quickly maneuvered him out of the way and Ravage leapt in between them. Ravage fixed the femme with dangerous optics, his fangs gleaming in the light as he growled one last warning. And this battle of wills probably would have turned even uglier if it was not for the sudden entrance of another pair of Decepticons.

"I trust there were no problems, Soundwave," stated Megatron, striding past the other mechs and femmes in the room as he approached his communications officer, "No signs of disturbances along the perimeter?"

"None, my Lord."

The youngling practically bounced in excitement when he saw Megatron enter the room, a great relief flooding his systems when he felt the familiar darkness of the big mech within close proximity once again. Megatron was the one thing in this scary place that was familiar and Bumblebee did not want to lose that feeling of protection he felt whenever he was in the Decepticon Lord's presence.

"The youngling, my Lord," said Glit, offering the small yellow mech to the massive Decepticon, "I have thoroughly scanned him and have not found any abnormal signatures in his systems. He is perfectly functional and very healthy."

Megatron regarded the youngling with emotionless optics for a few short moments before finally reaching his claw out and allowing the little mech to skitter onto it. He did not object to the youngling climbing up his arm and then up his chassis, using the various openings of the thick armor as foot and handholds, in his quest to the top of Megatron's broad shoulder. Within a few astroseconds, the youngling stopped and seemed content to latch onto the front of his right shoulder, tiny legs dangling down against the very top of his jagged chassis and his arms latching onto the joints of the shoulder so that just his head could be seen peeking out from behind.

"Keep a close optic on the ridges to the north," stated Megatron as he turned and prepared to leave, "If the Autobots attack, they will more than likely come from there."

"Yes, my Lord."

Thunderblast immediately attempted to speak with the Decepticon Lord, saying in a silky voice, "Lord Megatron, I would gladly watch over the youngling so that you can more easily perform your duties."

"Stop pretending to be nice, pipe-sucker," growled Bumblebee, "It jus' makes you uglier."

Megatron's brow ridges shot up at this, an almost proud smirk crossing his faceplates as his serrated teeth gleamed in the light. He gave the youngling a soft tap on the back and rumbled, "Language, little one, language."

Even the stoic Blackout chuckled at the half-furious, half-embarrassed look upon Thunderblast's faceplates. It seemed that Bumblebee was one mech whom Thunderblast would never be able to charm.

Bumblebee clicked at Megatron, frustrated by the fact that he was being scolded for something that everyone else seemed to do all the time.

How hypocritical.

Nevertheless, Bumblebee did take the time to buzz loudly at Thunderblast as she glowered off to the side. The femme glared at the youngling with an intense expression of hatred, hissing in fury when the little mech sent her a particularly rude hand gesture. A number of thoughts ran through her processor on just how she could kill this horrid rust-stain that had become so attached to her Lord. It wouldn't be that hard to crush his cranial unit, and she was pretty sure that her Lord did not feel any true emotions towards the despicable glitch.

However, any hopes she may have had at discreetly strangling the disgusting little runt were soon dashed when Megatron shot her a hard glare at the sound of Bumblebee's quiet (and deliberate) twitters. And, to the femme's immense horror and livid anger, the youngling actually had the nerve to smirk triumphantly at her and mouth, _**"I win."**_

With a frustrated growl, Thunderblast turned on her heel and stomped out of the room.

Bumblebee smirked evilly and happily cuddled into the deep crevices of Megatron's shoulder armor, content to know that not only was Megatron not fond of the nasty femme, but also that she was gone from the room. Besides, Bumblebee was pretty sure that Megatron would choose him over that stupid Thunderblast any orn. And it was the blazing strength of the Decepticon Lord's spark which assured the youngling of this very fact. Nevertheless, the feel of Megatron's sharp claws supporting his back was another welcomed reassurance and Bumblebee soon fell into a light recharge as the older mechs continued to talk about boring things like tactics and audio perimeter sensors.

The Decepticon Lord spoke with his communications officer for a few breems, listening to the other mech's various strategies for the impending battle. As far as all of the other 'Cons in the room were concerned, the youngling was simply being used as bait to get the Prime and his Autobots to stumble into enemy territory. Most of them believed that their leader was merely going to kill the youngling once he was no longer of any use to them or their cause.

None of them knew of the blind reasoning behind Megatron's acquisition of the youngling or his true connection to the puny yellow minibot. The only one who suspected such a vast connection was Shockwave.

And that was why the youngling needed to get out of here.

The youngling needed to be back amongst the Autobot troops and as far away as possible from the cruelty that Shockwave would no doubt subject him to in his efforts to uncover just how the little mech had been created. Megatron had spent the last few joors trying to convince himself that he was doing this out of self-preservation. After all, the Decepticon Lord knew that whatever information Shockwave uncovered would simply be used against him in the future.

His military operations commander had been trying to overthrow him for hundreds of vorns.

But for some reason still unknown to himself, Megatron simply could not harm the youngling, even if he was a snarkly little thing with a horrid paintjob and disrespectful manner. And he did not plan on allowing Shockwave to so much as touch the tiny mech. Once the Autobots were attacking the base, Megatron would discreetly find a way for the youngling to fall back into the hands of his older brother's troops.

It was the only solution Megatron could see at the moment.

"My Lord?" asked the feminine voice of Flamewar, "Are you sure the Autobots will come? All that sacrifice for just one youngling?"

"Oh, he'll come," said Megatron with a knowing smirk, "He _**always**_ comes."

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Took me a little while to update again. And no, to those of you who think she's an original character, Thunderblast actually is a canon character and I have decided to use her sleaziness in my story. And it would seem that she brings out the worst in Bumblebee. How charming. Well, the big chapter is coming up next and we'll see all three brothers together. With that said, I hope you enjoyed this and if anyone has any suggestions, just let me know!!

I'll be nice and give everyone a little hint though: Shockwave and Ironhide are going to go ballistic on one another and Shockwave is going to make the biggest mistake anyone can ever make around Ironhide. Any guesses?


	19. Chapter XIX : Ironhide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to give an extra-big thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to draw pictures for my story. Links to all of the fanart I have received is on my profile page. And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying from her story Night Fire, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.　

Youngling - Chapter XIX - Ironhide

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The towering walls of the underground base loomed high over the sparsely decorated recharge chambers of the Decepticon Lord. Only a few pieces of furniture adorned the big room, a recharge berth on the far side with a large computer terminal not too far away. A long-reaching table was situated on the center of the floor, various data chips littering the top of the cold metal surface. At present, the only surface that was being occupied was the enormous recharge berth beside it.

"Stupid thing," grumbled Bumblebee, his small faceplates contorting into a scowl as the device in front of him buzzed a cheery _game over_ tone, "Always eats me."

The youngling sat upon the rough armor of the Decepticon Lord, his small frame nestled into one of the deeper crevices of Megatron's chassis. Bumblebee held one of his game-chips in his hands, having only remembered a short time ago that he had attached the little device to his right hip. Megatron had not commented when the youngling had pulled the device off of his frame and had simply left Bumblebee to his own devices while he himself started up a much-needed recharge cycle.

And now, almost a whole joor later, Bumblebee was still thoroughly engrossed in his cheery action/adventure game.

Bumblebee was perfectly content to remain snuggled within the towering mech's jagged armor, his small head and bright blue optics the only things visible in the darkness of the chamber. Never one to pass up physical affection of any nature, Bumblebee eagerly absorbed the dark warmth that radiated from Megatron's omnipotent spark and blissfully cuddled down into the nooks of his battle armor. And, much to Bumblebee's surprise, it seemed that Megatron himself had willingly embraced their spark-bond as well.

The Decepticon Lord had kept their bond open since Bumblebee's arrival, a fact that both puzzled and intrigued the little mech to no end. And although Megatron had not exactly been nice or affectionate to Bumblebee, he had not made any move toward hurting the little mech either.

It was all quite perplexing, to say the least.

A feeling of calmness and peace always seemed to surround the little mech when he was with the Decepticon Lord. It was a feeling that Bumblebee usually only associated with Optimus or Ironhide; namely Optimus since he could feel his spark as well.

Bumblebee clicked quietly, running a small finger over one of the hundreds of tiny scars that littered Megatron's beast-like frame. He wondered if he was even supposed to feel like this; after all, Megatron was the leader of the Decepticons. Ironhide always said that Decepticons were pure evil and were incapable of possessing sparks. However, if the blazing warmth tugging at Bumblebee's own spark was anything to go by…

Well, Megatron definitely had a spark. A very powerful one, at that.

The youngling continued to ponder his odd relationship with the Decepticon Lord for a few more breems, his concentration finally breaking when he heard the tell-tale blare of an alarm roar through the base hallways. Bumblebee yelped in surprise, both from the sound of the alarm and the sudden lurching of the mech beneath him. And from the growl that Megatron's vocal processor released, it was very clear that he was not a happy mech at the moment.

"Pit-fragging Autobots!!"

Megatron grabbed a hold of the youngling and leapt up from his berth, red optics scanning the chamber before heading towards the doorway. He ignored the irritated clicks that the little mech was making in his hand, instead focusing on the numerous reports that were filtering in through his internal communications system. It seemed that his dear older brother had decided to attack from the southwest entrances and then circle in through the lower tunnels.

Very clever.

Such a difficult and perilous plan could have only been devised by Prime's military strategist with the help of that slagging aristocratic spy. Megatron desperately yearned to wrap his claws around that invisible mech's spark and watch the life slowly drain from his dark blue optics. That snobby spy had caused more problems for the Decepticons over the past few vorns than any other Autobot before him.

Oh yes, Megatron was going to capture that slagging spy one of these orns.

However, the Decepticon Lord had more important matters to attend to and was more concerned with the infiltration of his base at the present time. And, much to the big 'Con's delight, it was not long before he located a contingency of his followers battling the Autobot intruders.

"They've infiltrated the base, Lord Megatron," said Starscream.

"So I've seen," growled Megatron, his optics scanning the room for a particular Autobot whom he could discreetly pass the youngling off to without any of his followers taking notice, "And it would seem that you've failed me yet again, Starscream."

Despite the angered expression upon his faceplates, Starscream never got to say his piece before the wall on the far side of the room exploded in a plume of flames. The wave of Autobots that poured through soon sent the enormous chamber into a flurry of movement as the two rival factions collided with one another. However, it was the familiar black mech that appeared from the raging flames that drew Megatron's attention away from the battle before him.

"Perfect," he whispered to himself.

And with a flourish of his claws, Megatron twisted the gears of his right claw into a mace and smashed through one of the nearby pillars. The youngling whimpered when he entered the raging flames, optics wide as the Decepticon Lord used the smoke and flames around him as camouflage to get closer to his target. Once he was no longer visible to any of those in the room, Megatron found an adequate spot to leave the youngling and placed him upon a large pile of old equipment.

"No!!" cried the youngling, desperately clinging to the Decepticon Lord's claws as he attempted to pry the tiny mech from his shoulder, "Don't put me down!! I don't wanna be left alone!!"

Megatron visibly grunted, momentarily surprised by the sheer force of the distress and terror that he had felt across their shared spark-bond. In spite of this, his brief lapse of stoicism was quickly repressed and the Decepticon Lord carefully pried the little mech off of his chassis armor and jagged claws.

"Behave yourself, little one."

"No, don't go!! Please!!" screamed Bumblebee, his entire frame quivering in fear as Megatron stepped into the raging flames, "Don't leave me!!"

The warm darkness that Bumblebee had become accustomed to over the past few orns slowly began to fade away. It was still there, and it would always be there as long as Megatron lived, but the staggering intensity of that comforting spark-bond faded to a dull rhythm when compared to its earlier strength. And at that moment in time, standing amongst the blazing flames of the inferno, Bumblebee wished with all of his spark that he could feel that dark, scorching warmth once again.

"Please, come back," whimpered Bumblebee, kneeling down into himself whilst wrapping his arms around shaky knees, "I don't want you to go!! Come back!!"

He watched with teary optics as Megatron disappeared into the darkness.

"Please," the youngling whispered, "Come back."

A few long, agonizing moments passed as Bumblebee sat there, alone in the raging battle that was taking place around him. However, a familiar sound soon began to resound over the roar of battle and the youngling's audio receptors piqued in disbelief and interest, too emotionally drained to believe what he was hearing to be true.

"Bumblebee!!"

The youngling turned optics to gaze across the room and saw what had to be the greatest sight in the entire universe.

Standing amongst the raging flames was Ironhide, his plasma cannons roaring with power as he fired an endless barrage of missiles and bullets toward any Decepticon foolish enough to approach him. With flames and smoke seething on all sides of him, Ironhide resembled a ferocious, uncontrolled demon from the Pit itself. And it was very clear by the wide berth that the 'Cons were giving the weapons specialist that none of them wanted to anger this incensed devil any further and risk their lives at the ends of his blistering cannons.

On the other hand, to Bumblebee, that enraged demon was the sweetest sight in the whole, wide galaxy.

"'Hide!!"

Dark blue optics immediately snapped to the side and locked on the tiny yellow form that was huddled within a nearby pile of equipment. Ironhide almost felt his spark stop at the sight of his precious youngling kneeling there, a scant few meters from the heart of the inferno. And it was with a remarkable burst of speed and violent shower of missiles that the ancient Autobot warrior raced over to reclaim what had so cruelly been taken from him.

"Over here, 'Hide!!" shouted Bumblebee with a wave of his arms, "Over here!!"

The older mech ripped apart any drone foolish enough to get in his frenzied path and did not even bother to stop once he was within grabbing range of his youngling. With soft hands and a groan of pure relief, Ironhide scooped up his youngling and cradled the small frame against his broad shoulder. Never before had he felt such sweet relief, the feel of his youngling's tiny panels beneath his roughened fingers almost too much for him take in. He finally had him in his arms again, safe and sound.

His precious, precious youngling.

"Primus, Bumblebee," murmured Ironhide, clutching the little bot tightly against his shoulder as if afraid of some Decepticon swooping in and taking his beloved Bumblebee away for a second time, "Oh, Primus…"

Bumblebee clicked happily and snuggled into the familiar black armor of his huge guardian's shoulder, reveling in the booming voice and large hands that were holding him like he was the most important treasure in the universe. He chirruped in pleasure when the older mech placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead, small fingers eagerly tracing the rough contours of Ironhide's faceplates. And at that moment in time, no matter what any of the other mechs said, Bumblebee believed Ironhide's beaten and weathered faceplates to be the most beautiful sight in the galaxy.

"Primus, Bumblebee, you're online," he whispered, running tender hands over the youngling's tiny head and back panels, "I thought…"

Ironhide could not seem to finish a sentence no matter how hard he tried and soon simply resigned himself to the fact that holding his youngling again was enough of a reprieve for his old spark.

"Of course, I'm online," said Bumblebee indignantly, his tiny fist smacking against Ironhide's noseplate with a distinctive huff, "Did you think I'd jus' take their slag lying down?!"

"Watch your language."

Bumblebee ignored him with a roll of his optics and huffed, "Besides, **_he_** didn't let them hurt me."

Unfortunately, before Ironhide could ask exactly who this _he_ was, an enormous explosion rocked the chamber. Turning to see what had happened, Ironhide immediately backed up with a fierce snarl when he saw who had blown through the doors at the back of the room. And to say that he was not at all happy to see that disgusting golden optic and horrid purple paintjob was the understatement of the millennium.

"Bumblebee," whispered Ironhide, his voice more commanding and rough than the youngling had ever heard it before, "Get into my hold."

The little mech gazed up at his guardian in surprise, not quite sure what to make of this strange command. After all, Bumblebee had not been carried since he had received his second-frame, which was well over eight hundred vorns ago. He soon heard the distinctive clicking of gears that signaled the opening of Ironhide's carrying hold. And, with one last glance back at the rapidly advancing Decepticon, Bumblebee scurried into the hold with a loud click of encouragement to his towering guardian.

"Everything's going to be alright, okay," rumbled Ironhide, running a finger gently over his youngling's head before tightly closing the hatch of the hold, "I'm gonna make this 'Con wish he'd never laid that slaggin' optic on ya."

Bumblebee watched with wide optics as the hatch closed, shutting out the image of the charging Decepticon and that terrifying golden optic. With a quiet twitter, Bumblebee curled into a fetal position and leaned his head against Ironhide's warm spark casing. The hold was quite a bit tighter than it had been all those vorns ago when Bumblebee had only been in his first-frame, but there was still enough room for the youngling to move around and find a comfortable position. And, although he was well past the period of carrying, the feel of Ironhide's blazing spark was a comfort that he had sorely missed over the past few vorns.

The older mech waited a few moments to make sure that his youngling was safely locked in the carrying hold. Then, once he was certain that Bumblebee was tucked away from the violence that was about to ensue, Ironhide turned to regard his opponent with a stare of utmost hatred and extreme loathing.

"Shockwave," growled Ironhide, his optics shifting from their usual dark blue to a speckled blood red, "I've been waiting to do this for thousands of vorns."

With a fierce bellow of pent-up fury, Ironhide unleashed a barrage of missiles onto the charging military operations commander and rolled backwards, smashing through one of the nearby walls and ripping a sharp pipe from it. Optics alight with a vicious rage that few survived the brunt of, Ironhide threw the jagged pipe with pinpoint accuracy towards his very ill-omened opponent. Unfortunately, just as the spear-like pipe was about to make contact with the 'Con, a crumbling piece of rock from the ceiling hit it and diverted it from its original target and into the opening of Shockwave's left shin plates.

"Frag it," snarled Ironhide.

The dark purple Decepticon howled in pain, fixing his opponent with a vengeful glare when Ironhide emerged from the blazing inferno. With a grunt of pain and fury, the 'Con pulled the pipe out of his shin panel and released a huff of aggravation. He had not expected the weapons specialist to so ferociously defend a youngling who was not of his own creation.

It was a completely illogical display of emotion.

Shockwave watched the hulking black Autobot shift through the raging flames, his golden optic observing the subconscious movements the weapons specialist made when he advanced forward and towards his Decepticon opponent. Shockwave inwardly smirked to himself, having just realized what exactly the trigger-happy mech had done with the yellow youngling.

It seemed that the great Ironhide possessed a carrying hold, and he had placed the youngling within it.

The Decepticon felt a subconscious thrill run through his processor. It had been a long time since Shockwave had hunted a protective parental unit. Adoptive or otherwise. And the dark purple mech had learned over the vorns that the illogical attacks of a frantic caretaker were very easy to evade and exploit. The Autobot weapons specialist, who was already extremely illogical and erratic in his attacks to begin with, would prove to be no different than the hundreds of other caretakers whom Shockwave had offlined throughout the war.

And once his opponent was offline, the Decepticon would only have to pry the youngling from the mech's carrying hold.

To say the least, Shockwave had become very skilled at dismantling carrying holds over the past few thousand vorns. After all, it had been he who had led the assaults on two of the largest Youth Sectors and he who had been assigned the task of hunting down any surviving parental units.

Killing one more mech was logically inconsequential. Keeping his possession of the youngling hidden from his leader…well, that could be remedied with time and a few carefully encrypted viruses.

Shockwave was not willing to pass up an opportunity such as this to capture and then study the youngling. The infinite possibilities that an unusual spark such as this offered while also being coupled with the discovery of the methods of creation behind it was a breakthrough that Shockwave had been awaiting for a long time. And with such knowledge at his fingertips, Shockwave was convinced that the fall of the emotional and illogical Megatron would become inevitable.

With a quick calculation, Shockwave launched himself to the side and evaded the barrage of missiles that Ironhide had shot from amongst the flames. The Decepticon kept careful watch of the other mech's movements, logically wary of the extensive damage a direct hit could cause to his frame. However, their deadly game of missiles and lasers soon came to an end a half-breem later when Shockwave finally located an opening in the other mech's obstinate defenses.

"Continued resistance is unadvisable," said Shockwave, punching the Autobot in the faceplates as his left hand shifted into an energon blade, "Surrender would be wise."

"Over my deactivated frame," snarled Ironhide.

"That can easily be arranged," replied the Decepticon.

The two mechs continued to wrestle for power, their grunts of exertion echoing in the smoky room as parts of the ceiling crumbled to the ground around them. Shouts could be heard in the distance, most of them Autobot from the sounds of it and many of them with a worried tone as they searched for their trigger-happy comrade. Unfortunately, not one of Ironhide's companions were aware of the deadly situation he had found himself in over the last few breems.

"I won't let you have him!!" roared Ironhide, violently shoving the other mech to the side as he prepared to blow his head off.

"That is an invalid statement."

Without warning, Ironhide's legs were swept out from under him by the pipe that he had earlier thrown; which was now being held in the hands of his own enemy. The Autobot crashed to the ground, his optics watching in disbelief as a dark purple hand descended from above and slammed into the front of his cranium. And, with a loud groan of surprise and pain, the ancient mech's systems shut down into an emergency repair stasis.

"An inevitable outcome."

The loud sound of gears shifting reached Bumblebee's auditory receptors, his tiny head cocking to the side in bemusement as everything else went completely silent. He had been able to hear and feel much of the battle, but was not quite sure what the sudden, odd stillness meant for both him and his guardian. After all, the gears of the hatch were moving, so that must mean that Ironhide had—

"Ahhhh!!"

Bumblebee never got to finish that train of thought before he saw the hatch open a little bit at the top, thick purple fingers digging into the unyielding material as it attempted to protect the little one snuggled within the hold. However, it soon became clear that the metal could only take so much and the numerous dents that were quickly forming showed that the Decepticon was willing to use any methods available to break through the barrier that kept him from his objective.

"Go away!!" screamed Bumblebee when he saw another finger attempt to break through the top of the hold, "'Hide!! 'Hide!!"

Unfortunately, the youngling's guardian was still deep within emergency repair stasis and could do nothing to protect his little charge. And with Shockwave being the devoted scientist that he was, it did not take long for him to override the circuits and the gears that surrounded the hold, fully opening the hatch to his malicious golden optic.

"No!! No!! Go away!!" cried Bumblebee, desperately clutching onto the inside of the hold when a large hand entered and roughly grabbed him, "Leave me alone!! 'Hide!!"

"Your guardian cannot hear you, youngling," stated Shockwave, forcibly yanking the little mech out of the carrying hold and dangling him in front of his optic, "And I would suggest less movement."

Bumblebee screamed in pure terror, his tiny spark pulsing at an unhealthy rate at the sight of the Decepticon before him. Thick fingers were wrapped tightly around him, almost crushing his small frame in their unbending grip. The golden optic of the purple mech glowed eerily in the firelight, obviously scanning the youngling for information that he would no doubt use later during the initial experiments.

"As I expected," droned the computer-like Decepticon, "The spark will only be available to examination through open-frame surgery."

Bumblebee's optics widened in complete and utter horror, the small amount of energon that was left in his tanks rapidly rising up into his processing tubes.

"A minor inconvenience."

Thick streams of tears began to slide down Bumblebee's cheekplates when he felt the Decepticon stand up, guttural hiccups raking through his tiny frame as his modulators seemed to shut down. The dark purple Decepticon merely fixed the terrified youngling with an emotionless stare, feeling no sympathy nor shame for the little mech's obvious distress and physical and emotional deterioration.

"Silence is advised."

Bumblebee simply began to hiccup even louder, his entire frame shaking from the sheer force of his terror. He wanted his caretakers so badly that it physically hurt. He did not care which one, as long as they took him as far away from this horrible, one-opticed mech as possible.

"I said that silence would be most— "

The Decepticon was suddenly cut off by a blast to the shoulder, his entire frame jerking to the right as he fervently struggled to maintain balance. With a surprised groan, Shockwave glanced back into the flames and attempted to locate the mech who had been daring enough to shoot him. However, by doing this, the Decepticon also failed to notice the stirring of the form beneath him.

Groaning silently in pain, Ironhide opened his one good optic and gazed at the odd scene above him. Standing overtop of him was that Pit-slagging computer-with-legs that supposedly went by the designation of Shockwave. Nevertheless, it was not this sight that actually infuriated the Autobot's resident weapons specialist. Oh no, it was the sight of his precious youngling crying in terror that truly enraged him.

Ironhide's optics narrowed as he watched that disgusting mech carelessly shake his beloved youngling around like some…like some…worthless piece of trash. The white-hot rage that coursed through the weapons specialist's frame was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and Ironhide wasted time letting his absolute displeasure be known to all other living creatures within audio range.

"Put him down, ya Pit-slaggin' pipe-sucker!!"

With a roar of primal rage and absolute fury, Ironhide launched himself onto the other mech and started to pound as hard as possible with his cannon-reinforced fists. He trapped the Decepticon's right arm onto the ground and squeezed the wrist so hard that the sound of breaking metal could be heard throughout the room. Nevertheless, within a few astroseconds, his youngling was released and rolled unharmed onto the ground, his tiny frame quivering with fright as his guardian went completely ballistic on his opponent.

"'Hide…"

Ironhide's attention was soon drawn away from the horribly beaten Decepticon, his red-hazed gaze instead fixing on the small figure that had called out to him.

"Oh, Bumblebee," cooed Ironhide, all pretense of violence fading the instant he laid optics on his darling youngling, "Come 'ere."

However, before he could even pick the little mech up, a large figure loomed up behind him and a laser cannon was trained on his head. Ironhide's optics widened, terror filling him when he thought of what would become of Bumblebee and that he may never see his beloved Chromia again. But, this never came to pass, since Shockwave was inexplicably downed by an energon blade in his back.

"He just doesn't die, does he?" growled Ironhide, his angry glare fixed on the still-twitching frame of his enemy, "Even with a knife in his back."

The black mech prepared to quickly finish the job before the 'Con could get back up and take another shot at him, but his plans were unfortunately thwarted by the ceiling that had begun to fall all around them.

"Frag!!" cursed Ironhide, quickly scooping Bumblebee up into his arms as a large slab of stone almost fell on the youngling, "Get inside, Bee!!"

The youngling did not object and quickly crawled back inside the carrying hold, his small frame curling into a tight little ball beside Ironhide's spark as the dented hatch closed and shielded him from the outside world.

"This isn't over," promised Ironhide, glaring at the rapidly disappearing form of his newly-sworn enemy as the crumbling rocks blocked his path, "I'll find you, and when I do, I'm gonna make you wish you'd _**never**_ touched _**my**_ youngling."

And with that said, Ironhide turned to leave, but not before remembering something very important…

The weapons specialist glanced around the fiery chamber, still not quite sure who it was that had fired upon the large Decepticon. After a few astroseconds of straining his optics against the harsh light of the flames, Ironhide gave up and simply decided that he would have to ask around once they were back onboard the battleship. Thoroughly drained and eager to return home with his youngling, the ancient Autobot exited the massive chamber and disappeared into an adjoining hallway.

He never noticed the blood red optics that were watching his retreating form, nor the fleeting twinge of sorrow that flickered through them.

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Say hello to the second-to-last-chapter of this story. Yep, the _Youngling_ series is finally drawing to an end. It's coming to a spot where I've always pictured ending it & even though I know that there are many other stories & authors out there who are much better at writing this genre than me, I must say that I am happy with how I have managed to make it turn out. There will be one more chapter after this that will be a culmination of everything I have written in this story & it will focus solely on the relationship between Optimus, Megatron & Bumblebee. All I can say is that I hope everyone has enjoyed this story so far & that I have not butchered any of the characters too badly in it. Have a very Merry Christmas!!


	20. Chapter XX : Brothers

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story and has stuck by it over the past year. Thank you so much for your support! And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying from her story_ Night Fire,_ which I truly hope I do justice in this story. I would also like to recommend the story _File Recovery_ by Xerios to anyone who has enjoyed my stories. It's excellent and a must read for anyone who may be interested in Megatron's past. Thank you.

Youngling - Chapter XX - Brothers

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The dark night skies were speckled with brightly blazing stars as a warm twilight breeze wafted over the jagged ridges of the northern mountain range. Most of the clouds from earlier in the evening had cleared out, giving the resting creatures beneath the vivid heavens a generous amount of moonlight. Quiet chirps could be heard from the numerous insects of the rocky planet, their soft songs allowing the recharging Autobots a few brief moments of respite as they awaited sunrise and the arrival of_ Artemis I_. It had, without a shred of doubt, been a very long night and the sooner they were aboard the battleship, the better all of them would feel at the end of the orn.

"You should rest, Optimus," said Ratchet from his position against the cliff wall, "I can hear your hydraulics wheezing from here."

"I will in another breem," reassured the commander, "I just want to make sure that the perimeter—"

"Oh, would you just mute it and lay down," snapped Ratchet, "Prowl secured the perimeter himself and Hound's on guard duty. The Decepticons are in disarray and won't be able to regroup until sunrise." He shifted into a more comfortable position. "We'll be long gone by then anyways."

Optimus nodded in agreement, slowly leaning down against a nearby rock so that he could continue to watch over both the darkened horizon and the recharging figures of his followers. However, it was not long before his optic lids began to droop and the revs of his recharge cycle started to take over his massive frame. Within a few moments, he had fallen into a light recharge and the world around him faded into darkness.

Unfortunately, as all of the older Autobots fell into a much-needed recharge, their youngest member was just awakening from his deep slumber. Bumblebee woke up to the sight of his guardian's black chassis, his small frame cradled within the older mech's thick arms. The familiar feel of pulsing plasma seeped from the titanic cannons that Bumblebee was currently using as pillows, creating a contented warmth that made the youngling feel more than a little groggy. Nevertheless, Bumblebee was able to fight this feeling off and slowly wiggled into a position that allowed him to gaze overtop of Ironhide's enormous cannons.

The youngling's optics immediately located Optimus across the small valley, his spark nearly bursting with excitement at the sight of the large Autobot leader. This was the first time he had seen Optimus since before the kidnapping due to him being kept in Ironhide's carrying hold throughout the battle and then the little nap he had taken once they had escaped the Decepticon base. Bumblebee forced himself to remain quiet despite the intense thrumming of his spark and slowly began to wriggle his way out of Ironhide's protective grasp. Within a few astroseconds, Bumblebee was free from his guardian and scurrying across the rock-strewn valley.

Bumblebee traversed any rocks and bushes in his path, quickly walking through the shallow creek that ran down from the mountains and into the narrow ravine. With virtually silent footsteps, the little mech came to stand before the slumbering figure of the Autobot Supreme Commander. However, just as Bumblebee was about to touch Optimus's left leg, he felt the pulse of a familiar spark.

With widened optics and an excited click, the youngling allowed his hand to hover in the air before turning toward the direction in which he had felt the presence. All it took was another tendril of that spark to divert Bumblebee from his earlier plans, leading him in a completely different direction as he moved towards the southern entrance of the ravine.

Fortunately, the youngling never noticed the deep blue optics that followed him.

If there was one thing Bumblebee had learned throughout his short life, it was that his diminutive size was perfect for sneaking around and into anything he pleased while also being extremely useful in vanishing out from under his caretaker's scopes. Bumblebee had lost count of how many times he had managed to escape from his bedroom and then evade capture for countless joors. He knew the ventilation systems better than Red Alert did and he was pretty sure that he could override almost all of the locks on _Artemis I_.

Mirage said he was created to be a spy. Ironhide said he was created to drive him fritzy.

And it was with this intuitive sneakiness that Bumblebee was able sneak out from under Hound's careful watch and over the laser-activated perimeter of the Autobot camp. The escape, however, did not go unseen by everyone.

Optimus had followed the yellow youngling as he left the camp, his sharp optics watching as the little mech snuck right out from under their olfactory sensors. The stately mech was not sure whether he should be infuriated or proud of the youngling's daring getaway. After all, now was not the time for such imprudent endeavors, especially with Megatron so hell-bent on capturing the little minibot.

He continued to follow the youngling, silently making sure that Bumblebee did not wander into a dangerous situation. Optimus had to give the little bot credit, he was quite a talented escape-artist and would surely make an excellent scout in the distant future. But, for now, Bumblebee was simply a youngling who was doing something extremely naughty and incredibly foolish. And Optimus planned to have a nice, long talk with the youngling once they returned home.

Just as Optimus was finishing that train of thought, he noticed Bumblebee jump to the side and disappear down a narrow notch in the precipice wall. It took him a few more astroseconds than he would have liked, but the Autobot commander was soon able to find a larger break in the towering walls that he could fit through. Moving with a grace that no one would think possible due to his immense size, Optimus crept behind a large rock and gazed down into the valley.

His optics widened at the sight that greeted him.

The youngling stood upon a small rock on the far side of the valley, his small frame barely visible in the dark shadows despite his bright yellow coloring. His other brother, the most physically massive of the three of them, stood not even twenty meters away. A deep ache settled in Optimus's spark for a few astroseconds as he observed the vastly different forms of his younger brothers. He had never intended for his brothers to meet one another, but at that moment in time, Optimus came to realize that perhaps he had been wrong in his earlier assessments.

Perhaps Megatron was still capable of love.

Optimus watched as the youngling approached Megatron with a fearlessness that no other creature had shown in hundreds of vorns. The little mech walked right up to the Decepticon Lord, his tiny frame barely reaching Megatron's upper shin plates. And it was without an ounce of fear that Bumblebee placed his small hands upon Megatron's broad lower leg, gazing up at the towering mech with trusting optics and an aura of contentment that most would consider suicidal. The moonlight streamed down from the night sky and onto the two mechs, producing an almost ethereal glow that left Optimus feeling awed by his younger brothers.

"Stop fighting," said Bumblebee, his optics deadly serious as he pleaded with the Decepticon Lord, "Please, stop it."

The massive 'Con regarded the youngling with an unreadable glare, his towering frame motionless as Bumblebee continued to press into his shin-plating. He could not for the life of him remember why he had even come to this place. Emotion was supposed to be a foreign essence; something that no longer existed within his blackened spark. But, whenever he was around this brazen youngling, it seemed that his emotional inhibitions simply slipped away.

"I cannot do that."

Bumblebee gazed up at the enormous mech with narrowed optics, not at all happy with the answer he had received and more than a little put off by the emotionless tone in which it had been spoken. He clicked a few times in frustration, small hands grasping the thick edges of Megatron's lower shin-plating.

"Why not?" demanded the youngling, "Just ask 'em nicely and they'll listen, it always works for me." He paused for a moment, his brow ridges furrowing in thought. "And remember to say please, too."

"The universe is not so simple, little one," stated Megatron as he leaned back against a towering outcrop, "The workings of this war are far too complex for one as young as you to understand."

"I bet you don't even know what you're fighting about anymore!"

"You know not what you speak of, youngling," growled Megatron, his voice hard despite the fact that he made no move to remove the little mech from his lower leg, "The impact of the war has long passed the point of return. Forgiveness no longer exists within the Cybertronian race."

"You're wrong," snapped Bumblebee, smacking the taller mech on the shin with an angry pout and irritated huff, "They want the fighting to stop! How do you know that they wouldn't forgive you if you only—"

"You know nothing!!" snarled the Decepticon Lord.

The towering mech abruptly shifted to the side, his optics glowing an eerie shade of red that caused the youngling's spark to quiver in its casing. A sudden darkness took over their bond, slithering within it like a lecherous parasite. Bumblebee clicked in fright, terrified by this horrible presence that he felt infecting their bond. However, it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared, retreating into the unknown and leaving behind the warm darkness that Bumblebee had come to recognize as Megatron's formidable spark.

To say that Bumblebee was surprised by the sudden appearance of this terrible presence would be the understatement of his lifetime.

"What was that?" whispered Bumblebee.

The Decepticon Lord shuttered his optics, effectively erasing all physical traces of the malevolent presence that had briefly taken over his spark. For a few moments, he had feared that he was going to completely lose control. It had happened numerous times, all ending in tragic events that had led to him becoming the tyrant that he was this orn. But, this had also been one of the few times in which he had been able to effectively suppress the bloodlust that frequently took over him.

Megatron wondered if the youngling played a role in this unusual occurrence.

Bumblebee nervously clicked and pressed closer, his tiny fingers gripping onto the hard plating of Megatron's lower shin as if he was afraid that the Decepticon Lord would suddenly disappear into thin air. It was a scary thought for the youngling, who had grown quite attached to the huge mech over the past few orns. After all, it was not every orn that someone willingly embraced Bumblebee's bonds.

The Autobots would be furious if they knew such an attachment had been formed between their youngling and the leader of the Decepticons.

Ironhide would probably blow a gasket.

Or twelve.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, little one," rumbled Megatron, his voice deep and brooding. He shifted to the side in such a way that the youngling was now able to more rest comfortably against his shin-plating, a seemingly silent apology for his prior actions. "It is a matter that no one can control nor change."

Optimus watched and listened to the two younger mechs' interactions, astonished by the restraint and strength of will that Megatron had demonstrated moments ago. It was completely unlike his emotionally driven brother to show any signs of self-control. After all, Megatron's brutal nature was rooted in his inability to control his unstoppable temper. He had never known Megatron to hold himself back from punishing and beating a weaker life form. It was almost as if his true brother, the stern yet caring brother he had known all those vorns ago, had resurfaced for a few scant astroseconds.

Unfortunately, all hopes of his middle brother changing were completely shattered when Optimus witnessed that evil glow engulf those shockingly red optics. It was as if another entity had possessed the larger mech, luring him in with promises of power and conquest.

"I don't like it," whispered Bumblebee, pressing his face into Megatron's frame as his optics misted over, "It's not you."

Optimus kept his spark carefully hidden, but he could faintly feel the strength of the bond that had been forged between his two younger brothers and was amazed by the intensity that had developed over the last few vorns. It had been so long since Optimus had actually felt his brother's spark produce an emotion other than hate or anger, that he actually had to pause in order to recognize it.

For a few astroseconds, Optimus felt his true brother and not this monster that had consumed him. But before he could revel in this feeling, that familiar darkness which had become a constant presence overtook Megatron's spark yet again. And Optimus was once again devastated by the near crippling loss of his beloved sibling.

It was as if some higher power was toying with the brothers.

"You know nothing about me," growled Megatron, his great claws flexing as the moons rose to their highest points in the night sky, "Nor the universe in which we live."

Bumblebee remained silent, tightly grasping the jagged points of Megatron's hard leg armor as the air around them seemed to take on an eerie chill. He did not object to the fact that he did not truly know this violent mech whom he could feel so intensely within his spark. And he truthfully did not know much about the universe outside of _Artemis I_.

There was a lot in the universe that Bumblebee did not know about.

However, there were times when Bumblebee believed that he was more aware of the universe around him than most of the adult mechs gave him credit for. Ironhide simply told him that he was too young and naïve to understand the workings of both the Cybertronian race and the universe as a whole.

Bumblebee had to disagree.

He had seen and felt so much within the last few orns that the yellow youngling had to wonder if it was possible for one's processor to be short-circuited by information intake alone. The vast array of emotions which Bumblebee had experienced were far too numerous for the little mech to ever possibly hope to name. He had felt everything from intense familial love to petrifying terror within a matter of astroseconds. And the bond that had been opened between him and Megatron was almost on the same caliber as that which Bumblebee shared with the great Optimus Prime.

And there was another presence that Bumblebee could faintly feel through the oldest mech's spark that he could not feel through the Decepticon Lord. It was as if a second presence or bond was connected to Optimus, but this one was very distinct and had an even warmer feel to it.

Bumblebee wondered who this other presence was and why Optimus had never mentioned being bonded to another individual. The youngling could not pinpoint what the difference was, but this other bond gave off an extremely warm glow whenever the little mech attempted to interact with it.

If only he could connect with it like he had Optimus and Megatron, then maybe he could figure out—

The Autobot commander nearly jumped in shock when he felt Bumblebee attempt to connect with his sparkmate through their bond, tiny tendrils of the youngling's bright spark slithering their way past his own bond and into that of his sparkmate. And it was intense confusion and immense bewilderment which immediately erupted across his bond from a distant Elita.

This had never happened before and Optimus was not prepared for it.

The youngling latched onto the femme's spark in such an intense way that it was impossible for Optimus to hide his presence any longer. And it was with an all too familiar bellow of anger that Megatron realized that they were being observed by his rival sibling. With infuriated optics, Megatron glared at a faraway ridge and watched as his brother's towering form appeared from within the murky shadows.

"And you call me underhanded, brother," snarled Megatron, his claws clenching into fists as his older sibling approached, "It is not polite to eavesdrop on others, Prime."

"I did not come here with ill intentions, Megatron," rumbled Optimus, his frame tight and wary as he approached his unpredictable brother, "I merely followed the trail of the youngling."

Bumblebee slowly detached himself from Megatron's lower leg, landing on the ground with an inaudible thump as the two larger mechs glared each other down. He had long since released his hold on the mysterious presence within Optimus's spark, far too scared by the prospect of a fight breaking out between the two faction leaders to attempt to hold onto the strange bond.

"It is unwise to allow him to wander," rumbled Megatron, shifting to the side in what was supposed to be a menacing advance towards the youngling. "There are many who would see nothing wrong with extinguishing such a weak spark."

Bumblebee gazed up at the enormous Decepticon, his optics narrowing when he heard Megatron speak such disparaging and deceitful words. He was lying, and both he and Optimus could tell this. It was obvious over their bond, no matter how hard the massive 'Con tried to hide it. Megatron evidently desired for them to believe that it was he who would have no qualms about murdering the youngling, but the bond shared by the three siblings prevented such a blatant lie from being credible.

"I know that you would not allow such a—"

The Autobot commander was suddenly cut off by the sound of an explosion not too far to the west, just over the ridges that rose against the twin moons. He was instantly on alert, watching as his brother released a snarl of frustration and anger as yet another blast echoed throughout the night air.

"Who's that?" asked Bumblebee.

Both older mechs ignored the youngling's inquiry, instead focusing their optics on the bright lights that had erupted in the distance. Every coil and piston in Optimus's form tightened as he prepared for the inevitable battle that would soon take place between his brother and himself. Megatron was not the kind of mech to simply allow his much-hated rival to just walk away from him without a fight. He just hoped that Bumblebee did not get caught between the two of them. Albeit Optimus highly doubted that Megatron would care if the youngling was injured or even—

"Take the youngling and leave," commanded Megatron.

Optimus stared at the other mech with shocked optics, not quite sure what to make of such a command coming from his archrival. Had he just heard what he thought he had heard?

"Are your audio receptors not functioning?" snapped the Decepticon Lord, his red optics narrowing in severe annoyance. "Take the youngling and get the slag out of here!!"

The Autobot stared at the Decepticon for a few moments longer before cautiously stepping forward and gently scooping the youngling up into his arms.

"Come, little one," he said, keeping his optics firmly fixed on Megatron's unmoving frame. "It would be best if we returned to camp. We wouldn't want Ironhide to get worried and blow up another mountain, now would we?"

Bumblebee did not protest, but nor did he respond to Optimus's coaxing voice as they started to move away from the silent Decepticon. The youngling gazed over the tall mech's shoulder, his optics locking with Megatron's for a few long moments. The blasts were becoming louder, spurring Optimus into a swift run when a western cliffside exploded from an incoming missile. It would not be long before the Seekers arrived and demanded to know why their leader had left the base.

The youngling felt the intensity of their bond slowly dissipate, falling into a quiet coexistence that was much subtler than its prior strength. Bumblebee felt a deep sadness grip his spark, but was swiftly soothed by Optimus's blazing essence as they continued to put distance between themselves and the Decepticon Lord. Only slightly placated by his guardian's efforts, Bumblebee wrapped his tiny arms around Optimus's thick neck and watched as Megatron's stoic frame shrank into the distance.

And with a final wave of his hand, the youngling and his eternal protector disappeared into the darkness of the almighty mountains.

* * *

I would like to give everyone a huge thanks for taking the time to read my story. Wow, it's finally done. Well, not completely, since I want to include one last short chapter, an epilogue. But, for the most part, this story is officially over. Took me nearly two years, but it's done. I am still amazed by how great a reception my stories have received, especially since there are many other authors out there who are much better at writing in this genre than me. I sincerely hope I did not butcher Megatron too much.

I really hope this chapter does not disappoint anyone. I tried to wrap it up the best way I could by leaving it fairly open-ended for interpretation. Yet again, thanks for reading and if you have any questions or suggestions, I will try to address them at the end of the epilogue. Thanks!!


	21. Chapter XXI : Epilogue

Disclaimer: I dont own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this story and has stuck by it over the past two years. Thank you so much for your support! And I will be referencing Litahatchees wonderful idea of carrying from her story_ Night Fire,_ which I truly hope I do justice in this story. I would also like to recommend the story _File Recovery _by Xerios to anyone who has enjoyed my stories. It's excellent and a must read for anyone who may be interested in Megatron's past. And a huge thanks to MoonstarWorld for all of the help and inspiration she has given me for this story. Thank you.

Youngling - Chapter XXI - Epilogue

* * *

The sleek silver exterior of the titanic Autobot battleship, _Artemis I_, had shone brilliantly as the bright rays from the sun in the far-off distance reflected off of its smooth outer surface. Thousands of stars hung in the darkened expanse of outer space, their vivid light pouring through the bay windows of the immense ship and catching the attention of a Cybertronian youngling.

Bumblebee watched the expanse of space with unblinking optics, a thick tension hanging in the air of the soundless hallway. The young mech, now about the Cybertronian equivalent of a ten-year-old human child, sat upon one of the window ledges with his legs tucked underneath him. His small hands could be seen nervously wringing together as his optics consistently shifted to and from the doors on the far end of the hallway. Nervously, the youngling leaned his head against the glass and let out a loud sigh.

"What's taking them so long?" whispered Bumblebee.

With wary optics, the youngling glanced at the door again. He had not seen any of the older mechs for joors, forcibly left behind when the lower level alarms had sounded to signal a Decepticon attack. Ironhide had vehemently told him to stay put, threatening with much-finger-pointing to personally remove all of Bumblebee's newly installed espionage sensors if he moved from the window ledge. And to say the least, Bumblebee preferred to stay on his guardian's good side, especially after his last two escapades in the ventilation system.

"Stupid," grumbled the youngling whilst flicking a tiny piece of scrap metal off of the ledge, "Always leavin' me behind, not giving me a chance to do anything. I hope they don't come back at all."

A few more breems passed by and cold knots began to form in Bumblebees fuel tanks, his nervousness increasing tenfold when he heard the sound of explosions not even four levels down. The youngling warily glanced at the reinforced doorway on the far end of the hallway, intakes expelling extra air when he heard a series of loud sounds through the thick metal barrier. With silent feet and cautious movements that Mirage would have been extremely proud of, Bumblebee crept off of the window ledge and moved toward a small air vent on the opposite side of the hallway.

"Come on, come on," whispered the youngling, swiftly unscrewing the screws that lined the vent before pulling it off, "Alright, now I just have to—"

BANG!!!!

The youngling jumped in surprise when he saw a massive dent form in the thick doorway, the vent tightly clutched in his hands as he heard unfamiliar voices through the barrier. With a quick shake of his head, Bumblebee crawled backwards into the air duct so that he could reinsert the vent cover from the inside. Unsubspacing a small canister of super glue that he pilfered from Wheeljack's laboratory, Bumblebee hurriedly glued the inside of the vent, just finishing when he heard the door give way down the hall.

"Pit-slaggin' Autobots," snarled a rough voice, "Should all 'ave their fraggin' soft sparks ripped out."

"Calm yourself, Bonecrusher," said another voice, this one much smoother and silkier than the first, "There will be plenty of time for such things later."

Bumblebee slowly started crawling backwards, desperately wanting to get as far away from the vent opening as possible. Within a few moments, a large shadow cut off the light that had been filtering in through the vent cover and a thick leg could faintly be seen. As quietly as possible, Bumblebee backed up until he felt a wall behind his feet, a sign that he had come to an intersection.

"Wha' the slag're we supposed to be lookin' for, anyways?" snapped the rough voice known as Bonecrusher, "We should jus' raze the whole place an' be done with it."

"Lord Megatron wishes to investigate the laboratories on lower levels of the base, so it would be foolish to damage the upper beforehand," stated the other Decepticon. "I am sure that Lord Megatron has good reasoning for giving such indirect orders. No matter how frustrating they may be to yourself and others."

"Whatever," snarled Bonecrusher, his monstrous footsteps echoing throughout the surrounding walls as he moved further down the hallway, "I jus' don't get why we can't destroy everything an' be done with it."

"Lord Megatron realizes that there's no need to endorse destruction of valuable scientific breakthroughs unless absolutely necessary," snapped the other mech, his voice taking on a much more irritated tone. "You would do well to remember that as well."

"Mute your slaggin' vocalizers, Mixmaster, an' stop actin' like you're some kind of seraph," growled Bonecrusher, "You're jus' as violent an' reckless as the rest of us."

The sound of the two mechs arguing could be heard as they continued down the hallways, slowly fading into near silence as they disappeared around a corner. With a sigh of relief, Bumblebee turned to the right and continued through the ducts, easily moving in a southward direction. He had hacked the computer system of the base an orn ago and had downloaded the blueprints of the bases ventilation system into his processor. A devious smirk crossed the younglings faceplates, his small frame easily maneuvering through the complicated air ducts.

"Hmmm," murmured the youngling, glancing both ways down an intersection as he ran through the blueprints in his processor, "Should be down this way."

Unfortunately, Bumblebee failed to notice the air vent that was on the floor of the air duct to his right until he heard a loud creak and suddenly felt himself falling through the air. The youngling yelped when he hit a sharp, pointy object on his way down, bouncing off of the obstruction and onto an uneven surface. With a wobbly shake of his head and quiet groan of discomfort, Bumblebee slowly opened his optics and felt his spark quake at the sight before him.

"Uh oh."

Deep red optics glared down at the youngling, who was laying on his back in the palm of the much larger Decepticon's hand. The dark gray mech seemed just as startled as the youngling, simply staring with wide optics at the little creature who had suddenly fallen from the ceiling and onto his shoulder. Luckily, it seemed that his reflexes were as sharp as ever and catching the young mech had been easy enough.

"Blackout?"

The dark gray Decepticon turned to face his leader, maneuvering his hand out in front of him so that his lord could see what had caused the sudden distraction. With the arrogance and authority of a true dictator, Megatron ordered his subordinates to stop their worthless staring and put themselves to use by attempting to find other ways deeper into the Autobot base. The other Decepticons wasted no time in obeying their leader, none of them eager to insight his terrifying and violent wrath.

"We meet again, little one," drawled Megatron once his other followers had left his sensory range, "And at a most inopportune time as well."

The youngling dangled in Blackout's hand, watching as the Decepticon Lord strode over to inspect him. He did not move when Megatron bent over and narrowed his dark red optics, simply remaining still as the large 'Con silently inspected his frame with an astute and almost curious disposition. Bumblebee did not harbor any fear towards the massive Decepticon leader, instead viewing him much in the same way he viewed his more gruff and surly caretakers. True, he feared what Megatron was capable of, but he did not fear the mech himself. Then again, this was probably due to the fact that Megatron had never hurt him the last time he had—

"Owww!!" Bumblebee yelped, smacking away a sharp claw that had poked him in between his side panels. "What was that for?!"

"You have received a new frame," stated Megatron, taking note of the fact that the youngling was quite a bit bigger than the last time he had seen him all those vorns ago, "I am not at all surprised by the slightness of the frame though. It would appear that you are training to be an espionage agent."

Bumblebee did not respond, instead preferring to let Megatron know just how annoyed he was through their spark bond. Really, the 'Con had absolutely no couth of any kind. It was really quite pathetic. Didn't he know that it was rude to poke people that hard? If Bumblebee had just walked around _Artemis I _painfully poking people, Ironhide would have shocked his aft into the next galaxy.

"Now, being the smart little mech that you are," said Megatron in a smooth, conniving voice, "I am sure that you know how to get to the sub-level laboratories."

Bumblebee simply stared at the Decepticon rebelliously, not at all enthused by the direction in which the conversation seemed to be moving. "Sure I do," he responded in a proud voice, "But I don't think that you'll be able to make it through them without getting your aft stuck. The way I usually go is quite tight, even for me."

Megatron was about to respond when a large explosion blew a hole in the wall not too far down the hallway. A loud, gruff voice could be heard through the thick smoke and debris, spewing forth cuss words like they were going out of style. Bumblebee rolled his optics at the sound of the voice, not at all surprised by the reprimands that could be heard coming from behind it.

"What are you doing, Ironhide!?" shouted the familiar regal voice of the Autobot commander, "I told you not to—"

"Hey, you wanted to get through, so I got you through," rumbled the distinctive voice of the younglings guardian, "Stop complainin' and get your aft movin'. We gotta get to the labs before—"

"Looks like we've got company!!"

That was all Bumblebee heard before the massive hallway erupted into complete chaos as Autobots and Decepticons collided with one another. The youngling yelped in surprise when he was suddenly released, landing painfully on the floor as Blackout and Megatron retreated further down the hallway. The thick smoke and falling debris made his unprotected optics burn, effectively preventing young Bumblebee from seeing what was going on around him.

"Ahhh!!"

Bumblebee gasped in shock and fear when a massive foot smashed into the floor right beside his head, missing him by mere millimeters. The sound of missiles releasing echoed above his head, nearly causing his audio receptors to shatter from the deafening sound of the launchers discharging. Another foot soon smashed down on his other side, pinning the youngling to the spot as he looked up into a world of thick black smoke and unfamiliar sounds.

With a grunt of effort, Bumblebee rolled himself over and crawled out from in between the feet of the larger mech, escaping just in time before the mech moved one of his feet into the area where Bumblebee had just been laying. The youngling strained to see through the black smoke, anxiously looking for a familiar faceplate or leg panel. It was true that Bumblebee had recently received his third frame, but it was not nearly as large as most his comrades frames had been at his age.

Bumblebee was still a good deal smaller than Jazz, barely reaching the equivalent of three meters. And until he was a good deal older, Ratchet had said that he would not install the final height, weight, and weaponry additions to Bumblebee's third-frame for a good, long time. However, despite the independence that his third-frame had brought him, Bumblebee was still extremely dependent on the older Autobots for protection and could not possibly defend himself from most attacks or acts of violence.

Basically, if Bumblebee could not use his natural stealth and espionage abilities to escape from a situation, he was in serious danger.

A huge chunk of debris dropped down from the ceiling and slammed into his side, causing a pain-filled scream to rip through the hallway. Bumblebee gasped violently, his optics gazing down at the bright blue streams of energon that was running down his right side panels. The youngling cried out in pain when something else hit him, knocking him a few more meters down the hallway and into a hard wall.

"What the slag was that?!" questioned a voice.

"What was what?" asked another voice.

"I think I kicked somethin'."

"Probably just some debris from 'Hide's rampage."

"No, it felt different. An' I think it moved."

"Well, I don't know," said the other voice, this time closer to the shuddering youngling, "Maybe 'Hide hit one of the drones an' then stepped on it when he..."

Bumblebee curled as best he could into a tight little ball when he heard the voices coming closer, desperate to protect himself from another attack. He was in too much pain to pay attention to the voices, instead focusing on shielding his rapidly leaking side from his attackers' optical range.

"Oh Primus, it can't be..."

The youngling released a frightened cry when he felt a pair of hands grab him, the instinct to fight instantly taking over his entire processor. He started kicking, scratching, clawing, anything to get away from those who had caused him this horrible pain that was engulfing his whole right side.

"Calm down, Bee," said a deep voice with a sorrowful undertone to it, "It's just me. Smokescreen. Come 'ere, lil buddy, I gotta see your side."

"Ratchet!! Ratchet!! Go get Ratchet!! Now!!"

"Stop strugglin' so much, Bee," pleaded Smokescreen, gently trying to move his young protégé's arms so that he could get a better look at the little bot's right side, "I got to take a look at it." The diversionary tactician grunted in surprise when the youngling kicked him in the faceplates. "Well, don't just stand there, Streetwise! Help me out here!"

"What!? What's going on?!" shouted a familiar voice, "This had better be good. I need to get back to the—"

"It's Bumblebee! He's been hurt! Badly! Look at him!!"

The youngling suddenly felt his entire frame go cold, a deep blackness seeping into his processor. The loud voices and explosions that had been making his receptors hurt no longer seemed so bad as everything around him seemed to fade into nothingness.

* * *

_Several orns later..._

The world seemed all fuzzy and blurred when Bumblebee finally started to regain consciousness several orns later. The youngling's small frame was laying atop a medical table onboard _Artemis I's_ infirmary, safe and protected from any further injury at the hands of Decepticons. Systems slowly booting up for the first time in orns, Bumblebee came online with a quiet groan and rolled his head to the side in discomfort as he attempted to not be blinded by the bright lights of the room.

With aching optics, Bumblebee was able to discern a large black shape to his left side and groggily whispered, "'Hide?"

The ancient mech stirred after a few astroseconds, coming online with a loud snort and dramatic sigh from his intake valves. Bumblebee watched as his guardian's one good optic locked onto him, blinking a few times before realization seemed to finally set into an infinitely thick head. It took less than an astrosecond for the black mech to close the space between himself and his youngling.

"Bumblebee!!" rumbled the older mech, instantly at his youngling's side when he saw those beautiful baby blue optics opened into groggy slits, "Oh, Primus! I thought I'd lost you!"

Ironhide's massive frame loomed over the little mech, effectively covering him in shadow as he leaned over and rested his head against his youngling's small forehead. The young bot did not protest the sudden contact, instead reveling in it as Ironhide wrapped a large hand around Bumblebee's small one and gave it a reassuring squeeze. With a deep sigh of relief, Ironhide kissed his youngling atop the head and reluctantly pulled away as he rested his optics upon the small being whom he had raised and cared for since creation.

"I could have killed you," the black mech whispered, his usually hard voice hoarse with emotion as he replayed the battle in his processor, "You were right below my feet in that hallway. I can remember feeling something crawl over my foot." His dark blue optics closed for a moment, his emotions overwhelming him at the mere thought of what he had almost done. "It was **_you_.** I almost stepped on **_you_."** He leaned over again, drawing the youngling close, as if to make sure that Bumblebee was really here and not lying amongst the rumble of the destroyed base. "I almost _**killed**_ you."

Bumblebee tried his best to curl into his guardian, eager for the protective touch that Ironhide always bestowed upon him. He had been absolutely terrified in that hallway and had desperately wished for his guardian to take him away from all of the destruction. Instead, it turned out that the mech who had almost crushed him had in fact been the very mech whom Bumblebee had been yearning for. The irony was too horrible and terrifying for the youngling to swallow at the moment.

"I'm here, Bee," whispered Ironhide, maneuvering himself up onto the medical table whilst gently picking up the little mech. He was mindful of the soldered patchwork on Bumblebee's right side and the many wires that were attached to his youngling as he carefully placed the frightened mech into his lap. "I'm right here. Just let it out, let it all out."

With a quiet whimper, Bumblebee buried his head into his guardian's side and let out all of the emotions that had built up over the past few orns. At that moment, all of his recent, hard-earned independence meant little and Bumblebee simply reveled in the warm strength that radiated from Ironhide's frame like a blazing beacon.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay put, I'm really sorry," whimpered Bumblebee as he tried to explain to Ironhide why he had left the window ledge. "I didn't mean to disobey you."

The older mech merely tightened his grip on the youngling, reassuring him that he was not mad at the little mech's actions. After all, if Bumblebee had not snuck into those air ducts, the Decepticons would have surely killed him. Neither Bonecrusher nor Mixmaster had a sympathetic bolt in their frames, and Ironhide did not even want to think about what they would have done to Bumblebee had they captured him.

"It's alright," murmured Ironhide once his youngling was done telling him what had happened, "I'm not mad at you." He ran a tender hand over the little mech's head. "I'm just relieved that you're safe with us again."

"And that is how we feel as well."

Bumblebee turned his teary optics toward the far side of the room, instantly aware in his spark of Optimus's close proximity. Standing on either side of the Autobot leader was Ratchet and Jazz, both of their frames relaxing when they saw that the youngling had come online.

"How are you feeling, little one?" asked Optimus.

"Better," whispered Bumblebee, not yet willing to emerge from the safe haven that was Ironhide's protective embrace, "But the wires are annoying."

"I know they are, but you lost a large amount of energon," stated Ratchet, easily scanning the youngling from afar whilst looking over the wall-mounted monitors, "And I will not remove them until I am sure that your vital signs have returned to normal levels."

Bumblebee groaned in displeasure, eagerly burrowing into his guardian and really not caring if he seemed needy or clingy. All he wanted right now was a nice long recharge and Bumblebee dared anyone to try to take him from his current warm location. Ironhide had always made a very comfy pillow and Bumblebee wholly intended to use the gruff, old mech's plasma cannons to the fullest of his abilities. Unfortunately, Ratchet seemed to have other agendas planned for the exhausted youngling.

It was nearly a joor later by the time Ratchet had finished running all of the scans and tests that Wheeljack, Hoist, and himself had considered necessary. Ironhide had been less than happy about all of the testing, especially when Bumblebee started to complain about how his side was hurting. Optimus had promptly calmed the trigger-happy mech down, ordering the scans to come to a quick close. He could feel in his spark how tired the youngling was and did not like the feelings of pain that were coming from the little bot's weary spark.

"Sorry, little buddy," murmured Wheeljack, tenderly rubbing the youngling's left side as he prepared to hand him over to Optimus, "But we had to replace those patches."

Bumblebee merely whimpered in reply, eagerly leaning into Optimus when he felt the towering commander's brilliant spark embrace his own and bathe it in warmth. He did not care if such spark interaction had become rarer and rarer as the vorns passed. At that moment in time all Bumblebee really wanted was to be warm and pain-free, and Optimus always radiated warmth like a supernova.

"You have been very brave, little one," murmured Optimus, cradling the little bot close as he returned to the medical table, "I am very proud of you."

Bumblebee clicked in reply, something he had not done in many vorns, and buried his head beneath Optimus's sturdy chinplates. The older mech did not object and held the youngling tightly against him, carefully moving towards a far berth that lay beside a small window. Optimus soon settled down into the berth, adjusting the youngling and his many wires into a comfortable position. He gazed at the stars as he heard his comrades' voices in the background, conversing and bickering about various subjects.

With tender fingers and soft touches, Optimus lulled the youngling into a sound recharge, quietly humming as he heard Ratchet throw something at Ironhide yet again. It was not long before Jazz joined in the fun, earning the wrath of the weapons specialist as he poked fun here and there. However, before things could get too out of control, Ratchet stepped in and chucked a wrench into the back of both their heads.

Warm optics gazed down at the youngling, the stars shining lightly over the little mech's soft yellow frame. Optimus placed a tender kiss atop the youngling's head, leaning back with a content smile as he cradled his most precious treasure against him...

His precious youngling.

* * *

I am finally done!!!! Wooohooo!! It took me nearly two years, but I'm finally done!! And man, does it feel great!! And wow, I've gotten over 105,000 hits on this story. Never ever expected it to be such a hit. I really hope I did not butcher the characters too much. But now I cannot wait to see Revenge of the Fallen. It looks so damned good. This will most likely be the longest story I'll ever write on here due to how busy I'm going to be over the next couple years. However, now I can focus all of my energy on _Sparkling_, so expect to see that updated until completion. If there are any last thoughts or suggestions anyone would like to give, I am always willing to listen. Thanks for reading and I hope this last chapter lived up to everyone's expectations!!

P.S. - I've had couple people request to do fanart of my stories. I have no problem with anyone using any of my ideas as long as they give me or my story credit & do not place minors (namely Bumblebee) in inappropriate situations. With that said, draw to your heart's content.


	22. Author's Note : ROTF Sequel

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.

I am sure everyone who is reading this is as excited to see the new Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen movie as I am. And I would like everyone who has taken the time to read and review my stories to know that I have listened to your statements. I have had many people both privately message me and tell me in reviews that they would greatly wish for me to write another story similar to Little Brother, but based off of Revenge of the Fallen. Basically, it will be the sequel to Little Brother.

I wholly plan to write a similar story, with Bumblebee as the main focus of course, about the new Transformers movie. I will probably not start it until I can find the movie script somewhere on the internet, because I would prefer to stay as true to the movie as possible. However, I will most definitely pay very close attention to any suggestions or requests that people will make towards this story; more so than I have in the past with Youngling, Sparkling, and Nightmare. If anyone would like to make any suggestions after seeing the movie, I will gladly listen to them.

And yes, I will definitely focus largely on the relationship between Optimus, Megatron, and Bumblebee.

I am also not quite sure of the title that I will give this story yet, but I will more than likely know after seeing the movie. Just keep a close eye out for it. For now, if you have any requests or suggestions, just private message me or place them in a review of any of my stories. Thank you for taking the time to read this!!

Sincerely,

Karategal


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